


So Much We Didn't Say

by whyidontknow1



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Louis, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, M/M, Mentions of Underage Sex, Past Child Abuse, Sex without Protection, Top Harry, absolutely no cheating, adult au, as usual ziam is minor, graphic description of abuse, louis and harry are retired professional skateboarders, louis is adopted, minor character death mentions, niall adopted him, niall is 68 years old in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 13:52:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 53,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3898726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyidontknow1/pseuds/whyidontknow1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry’s near fatal accident exposed the cracks in his and Louis’ eleven year marriage. A serious error in judgement by Louis shattered it completely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Much We Didn't Say

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up singing Fireproof after an emergency appendectomy. Somehow this is the end result.
> 
> I decided they'd be pro skateboarders after reading an article on Tony Hawk's net worth.
> 
> I love adult Harry and Louis, and I think I'm addicted to bottom Louis now. Maybe a phase?
> 
> I'm not a doctor or nurse, but I have been a patient in a hospital. I claim no other knowledge outside of Google. 
> 
> Same goes for foster care and skateboarding. I googled it.
> 
> Please don't read if any kind of abuse, especially child abuse is a trigger for you.
> 
> This is set during the Christmas holidays so if you're not in the mood...
> 
> I'll probably be editing and correcting mistakes for the next five years.
> 
> If I haven't turned you off I hope you enjoy!!

The unfamiliar car in the drive stops Harry for all of two seconds. He glances at the car, and keeps moving because an unknown visitor is the least of his priorities. Settling things with his husband is the only thing he can focus on right now. The argument they had before he left for LA was the worst one yet, and Louis had only thawed a little on their last conversation.

The fights boil down to Louis wanting another child and Harry refusing him.

According to Louis' logic it’s not about one of them winning or losing, but more about both of them figuring out a way to compromise. For months Harry laughed at the argument because if Louis got his way where would the compromise be, but Harry's worn down from all the arguing and tension between them. He’s finally at the point where he’s ready to meet Louis halfway.

He just wants them to be in a good place again. Telling Louis he’s ready to retire after two stints on the pro skateboarding exhibition tour and that maybe in a year or two he’ll be ready to give their eight year old son a brother or sister seems like a good place to start.

The change of heart is why Harry flew home two days early. He couldn’t wait an extra minute to smooth things over with Louis and hopefully put an end to one of the most trying periods in their eleven year marriage. Because the one thing that hasn't changed over the years is how absolutely in love he is with his husband. He'd do anything not to lose him, and lately it feels like he's close to doing just that.

The two distinct voices coming from the main room immediately piques Harry’s curiosity when he walks through the door and he heads in the direction of the sounds. There's no doubt that one of the voices belongs to Louis. The other one, definitely female, is too hushed for Harry to recognize.

He gets close enough to hear Louis saying something about having another baby, but confusion stops him from interrupting like he originally intended. He’s nowhere near shocked to hear Louis talking about wanting another baby seeing as that's all he talks about now. What stops Harry cold is seeing their son’s surrogate sitting on the sofa beside his husband.

They’ve stayed in sporadic touch with Karen since Cameron’s birth. They exchange Christmas cards, the odd note here and there, but as far as Harry knows she’s never been to their home before.

“A little girl, I can’t believe it,” Louis sounds almost in awe. "Our Isabel."

Harry would like to know what’s so hard to believe about it. Three years ago they vowed to name their first daughter after the woman who took Louis into her home as a foster child when he was nine years old, but it was in the wake of Isabel’s death and they were extremely emotional.

Two years after Isabel and Niall Horan became Louis’ foster parents they completed the process by adopting him. They're the only real parents Louis has ever known and it could be that he's just reminiscing, but that still doesn’t explain why Karen’s in their house right now.

Harry gets as far as thinking Louis might be asking their surrogate to carry another child for them. That in itself is enough to infuriate him. Louis would have to be out of his mind to make that decision for both of them. Especially when he still has to think they're divided on the subject.

Harry's about to make his presence known and ask for an explanation when Karen’s next words stun him speechless.

“Now your husband's the one you need to share that with, love. You can’t put it off any longer. You two are having a daughter and he doesn’t know. I agreed in the beginning because you said it’s what he would’ve wanted, and I haven’t said anything since you told me the truth, but look at me. I can’t exactly hide it now. What if I run into Harry somewhere? It’s happened before. What if he never agrees to have another baby? What will you do then?”

Suddenly it all makes sense to Harry. The agitation, the aloofness, and the arguments, The fear he saw in Louis’ eyes sometimes. The sleepless nights he thought were due to Louis still being worked up over the accident that almost killed him. The pressure to have another baby.

The fucking pressure!

“I’ve considered that. It’s literally all I can think about, Karen,” Louis sounds so regretful the protective side of Harry almost forgets what he’s listening in on, but Karen chooses the moment to stand up after announcing she has to take a wee.

She visibly jumps when she turns to find Harry standing in the open archway. “Oh Harry, you scared me love. Welcome home.”

Karen nervously tucks a blonde strand of hair behind her ear, and her words are obviously more of an attempt to warn Louis of his presence than an actual greeting, but Harry’s too focused on her protruding stomach to care.

“Hi, Karen. What are you doing here?”

Of course Harry already knows. When their son was born they decided they wouldn't tell him about Karen until he was old enough to decide for himself if he wanted to get to know her. Cameron's only eight now so the discussion about Karen is years off, but Harry had to ask. He had to at least give Louis the benefit of doubt, but when his husband finally turns around the guilt on his face says everything.

“Louis,” Harry can’t say anything else, but the one word carries so much accusation and hurt nothing else needs to be said. He wouldn’t listen to anything Louis has to say anyway. Not now.

More furious than he’s ever been in his life, Harry goes upstairs to start packing for a much longer absence and when his pensive looking husband walks into their bedroom about ten minutes later he’s already done and sitting on the bed waiting for him.

“How far along is she, Louis?” Harry ambushes, shaking with barely suppressed rage. He only wants to know how long Louis has been lying to him, nothing else.

“Haz, please,” Louis pleads, tears already forming in the blue eyes Harry's loved for over half of his life.

“How far along!” Harry stands up, and advances on his startled husband, ready to shake the truth out of him if he has to.

“Six months, but if you’d just listen I can explain,” Louis whispers, sounding defeated.

Harry’s too preoccupied calculating the dates in his head to notice. “Let’s see, I’ve been home for just over four months. That makes me think you had the procedure done while I was laid up in a hospital recovering from an almost fatal accident. That means Karen was already pregnant when you approached me the first time about having another baby and every single time after that. Was I even out of the coma?”

“No, but…,” Louis starts, but Harry cuts him off.

“Just how long have you been planning on having another child behind my back, Louis?”

“Please, let me explain,” Louis pleads.

“Explain this. What were you going to tell me if I ever gave in? Or if I didn’t? What was you fucking plan, Louis!”

“I don’t know,” Louis looks like he has to force the words out.

Harry doesn’t struggle at all with his. "Do you know I’m so sick of your shit? For months, no make that for fucking years I’ve let so much slide, but not this. Not anymore. You don’t get to make any more decisions for me. Never again.”

“What are you talking about, Harry?” Louis sounds angry for the first time. “From where I’m sitting you’ve made some pretty important decisions on your own. I don’t remember you consulting me at all before you made the decision to join the exhibition tour, do I? The first or second time.”

“Don’t act like it bothered you. You haven’t exactly begged for my company these last seven years,” Harry points out snidely.

Louis looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” he challenges disbelievingly.

“I don’t know, Louis. Let's see, were you kidding me when you practically pushed me out the door every time I had to go back on tour? Were you kidding me when I couldn’t ever get you to stay more than a week when you and Cameron visited me in LA? Were you kidding me when you turned I miss you into the three of the most meaningless words to ever be spoken?” Harry charges.

“Excuse the fucking hell out of me, Harry. I didn’t know there was a certain way to tell my husband I missed him,” Louis responds derisively, eyes flashing with anger and pain.

“Yeah Louis, there’s a certain way. You say it like you mean it,” Harry lets out a dry laugh, and then he’s done. “Listen, I’m picking Cameron up from school today. He’s too young to understand what you’ve done so I’ll tell him we’ve both decided that we need some time apart. I suggest you be prepared to back me up and tell him something along the same lines when I drop him off tonight. I’m going up to mum’s for a few days, but I’ll be back to take our son for the weekend. Hopefully I’ll be ready to talk to you in more detail about my plans after that,” he speaks without an ounce of emotion, ignoring how pale his husband is, and how pitiful he looks now with his arms wrapped around his waist.

“She’s yours too, Haz. She’s the daughter you promised me,” Louis pleads when Harry opens the door. “Don’t do this.”

“I didn’t do this, Louis!” Harry yells, turning condemning eyes on the man he pledged a lifetime to. “You did this, and the only child I have is Cam. Do you know why? Because I was there when we decided we were ready to become parents. We decided together to use my sperm instead of yours. I was there when we chose Karen to carry him and you were right there beside me literally giving me a hand when we got the specimen. I cried with you when Karen called to tell us she was pregnant and I was there to worry with you when she almost miscarried. We rejoiced in each other’s arms when the doctors told us the danger had passed. I felt my son move before he was born. I heard my son’s heartbeat…” Harry stops because the enormity of what Louis did really hits him. “I was there from day one. I was there as an equal partner and an equal decision maker. Now you’ve stolen that and so much more from me. So no, she’s not my child, Louis. She’s yours and while you’re at it think of what you stole from her too.”

“You don’t mean that,” Louis cries, tears streaming down his face.

∞∞∞

_9 Months Later_

Harry almost tumbles over the side of the bed before he wakes up enough to remember he doesn’t own the alarm clock he’s desperately trying to shut off, but at the moment of realization the source of the annoying and unfamiliar ringing stops. “Are you fucking for real!” he moans angrily.

Not to be left out the tan border terrier at the foot of his bed barks to let him know he’s just as peeved at having his sleep interrupted.

“Quiet, Jack Jr.,” Harry hushes the irritated puppy and as usual that’s all it takes.

Harry doesn’t have to hear the contented breathing to know the dog he rescued from an animal shelter is already on his way back to sleep. He’s only owned the border terrier for three months and despite possibly choosing the laziest one on the planet, he’s had no regrets.

He can’t say the same about being woken up out of his sleep. Thankfully it’s early enough for it to be remedied, but just as he sinks back into his pillow the phone he just got yesterday starts ringing again. This time Harry has enough clarity to pick up the new phone and he goes into instant worry mode when he recognizes the number on the screen.

“Louis?” His estranged husband wouldn’t call him at six twenty in the morning just to talk. He wouldn’t call at all unless it’s something to do with their nine year old son. “Is Cameron okay?”

“Cam’s fine,” Louis reassures him. “Actually, Niall insisted I call. I’m sorry about the time difference, but he wants to see you. Demanding it is a better way to describe it.”

Harry ignores the apology easily, but it takes a little more of an effort to ignore how tired Louis sounds. “It’s fine. How is he?”

“He’s improved now, but it was pretty bad this time. I think it scared him,” Louis’ voice trembles just enough for Harry to catch it, but the small display of emotion is hardly surprising.

Louis’ dad was diagnosed with congestive heart failure six years ago, but with medication and watching his diet he hardly ever got sick. The illness only seemed to make its presence known following Isabel’s death after suffering a massive heart attack three years ago. Since then the spells have been more frequent, but none as bad as this time apparently.

Before they adopted Louis, Niall and Isabel served as his foster carers, but Niall would argue any title other than parents were just legal formalities because he and Bella couldn’t have loved a biological son more. Louis returned the feelings tenfold. His devotion to his parents is undeniable and after losing Bella of course he'd be more apprehensive if Niall is as bad off as it sounds.

Harry loves Niall too. A lot more than he's shown lately and right now he needs some reassurances of his own. "Can you put him on?"

“Sorry, they’ve just taken him for a test, but he won’t talk to you over the phone anyway. He says he has to see you face to face,” Louis hedges, and Harry doesn’t have to see him to know he’s fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt. Not once in the nine months since he’s been gone has Louis’ dad put pressure on him to come home. It really must have been serious for him to be doing it now.

“I get it. Will you tell him I’ll be on the next flight out?” Harry requests, already mentally preparing. It won’t be easy switching flights two days before Christmas Eve. Especially with Jack Jr. traveling with him, but for Louis’ dad he’ll fly in the cargo area if he has to.

When Harry talked to Cameron on Friday he said his granddad was in the hospital, but recently the minor sick spells were more common than not. Still Harry had his mum call Louis and he believed it when she reported back to him that Niall was on the mend.

Harry’s aware that it doesn’t pardon him for not making a call directly to Louis. His only excuse is he just didn’t want to talk to his husband. Never when he can avoid it.

“I feel like I should warn you that this is about us. It’s all he’s talked about for two days,” Louis says with the kind of resignation that comes from giving in to something unwillingly. “I tried to tell him he could see you when you collected Cam next week, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Nothing unusual there, and I pretty much guessed it was about us,” Harry's uncharacteristically empathetic, but he knows how relentless Louis’ dad can be. It's why he's avoided him so much since the separation.

“I don’t want you to think I put him up to this. I wouldn’t,” Louis sounds haunted and unsure.

Harry hates and loves him for it.

“Why would I think that? I know what your dad's like, Louis,” he responds, unintentionally impatient.

This time it’s not directed at Louis. Harry’s mad at himself for still caring. He’s mad because he still can’t believe Louis sent him divorce papers. He’s just mad. “I’ll text you my flight information as soon I get it,” he tries to smooth over the awkwardness.

“Alright, and I guess thanks for doing this,” Louis responds after a long pause, and before he ends the call.

When the line goes silent Harry sits in stunned disbelief. He’s so angry he can’t move. Louis just thanked him like he was doing Niall some sort of favour by agreeing to his request. Like he didn’t love Niall and still think of him as family.

It’s even more infuriating because if Louis hadn’t betrayed him, Harry wouldn’t need a phone call asking him to come home because he’d already be there. He’d already be with his family instead of living in another country with a lazy dog as his only source of comfort.

∞∞∞

The only available flight was just a few hours earlier than the original one and almost twenty three hours later memories of another hospital stay threaten to suffocate Harry as he rides the lift up to the fifth floor of Chelsea and Westminster. Visions of waking up with a fractured skull, a broken wrist, and a shattered femur after being in a coma for nine days have been assaulting him since he walked through the hospital entrance.

He needed two surgeries to repair his thigh bone and months of extensive physical therapy afterwards. He had to deal with a headache that felt like somebody was constantly hitting in the head with a sledgehammer. Learning how to do things with one hand and get around in a wheelchair made that period even tougher, but worse than all the pain and inconveniences combined was waking up to a husband who treated him like a stranger instead of the man he’d been married to for eleven years.

At first he thought Louis was holding a grudge against him for doing two consecutive exhibition tours after he retired from competing professionally. He hadn’t shown any signs of being angry before, but maybe the accident was the tipping point.

When the odd behaviour continued after he was released from the hospital Harry came to realization Louis was just being Louis. The always in charge person who wouldn’t let something like his husband suffering from a life threatening injury shake him, but he had been wrong on all counts. Louis was just caught up in a web of lies.

The lift doors slide open way before Harry’s ready, and after a short walk he finds himself in front of the door with Niall James Horan in the name slot even faster. To prepare Louis, Harry texted him his flight time along with an approximation of when he’d arrive at the hospital, but maybe he should’ve worked a bit more on preparing himself.

The fear that his estranged husband might be inside the room and an even more irrational fear that he might not be prevents Harry from opening the door. Instead he counts the number of letters in Niall’s name to stall. Funny he never noticed all three names have five letters each.

“Stop being a wuss,” Harry mumbles after the fourth count. So what if he hasn’t seen Louis since he left. It’s not like they haven’t had enough practice being pleasant to each other. They haven’t said a contentious word in months. Now they just get to do it face to face.

Harry knows he can do this. It's not like he can back out now. Everything's just so complicated and compiling it is the guilt that swamps him the second her steps inside the door. To cover he does a quick appraisal of the room.

For all the benefits of being private, it still looks like a sterile and bland hospital room. The only bright spots are the colourful flower arrangements scattered about, the tiny Christmas tree on the small stand beside the bed, and the green throw with the reindeer covering Niall’s legs.

Harry’s eyes move further up the bed and his gaze collides with the cloudy blues eyes of the sixty eight year old man who’s been a real friend to him as well. As a good father in-law.

“You’re here,” Niall whispers, his voice full of relief.

"Would've been here sooner if I had known," Harry whispers back. He talked to Niall just three weeks ago. Then he sounded full of energy, going on and on about how the no sodium diet the doctors put him on and the thirty minute daily walks were doing him a world of good. He was also considering a trip to Ireland before Cam had to return school after the holidays if he could convince Louis to go with him, but the pale man on the bed doesn’t look like he could make a trip to the loo let alone visit another country.

The trembling finger Niall lays across his mouth attests to the fact even more. Despite the obvious meaning of the gesture, he still mouths the sound and Harry’s eyes to move the figure sitting in the chair pulled flush up against the bed.

Louis’ upper body is laying on the bed, and after sleeping with him for more than thirteen years, Harry can tell from the soft snores he’s deep under. He nods to let Niall know he understands before quietly making his way around the bed to take the seat on other side, but before he sits down he leans in to give the older man a kiss on the forehead, and bury his face in the hair that’s still more blond than grey. 

When Harry lifts up the first thing he notices is the grip Louis has on Niall’s other hand. The tattoos on his arm and wrist stand out against tan skin that feels like rough silk.

Unwelcome memories of tracing his fingers over the tattoos on both of arms hit Harry like a sledge hammer. He tears his eyes away from his sleeping husband only to collide with Niall’s penetrating look, but not before he spots the wedding band still on Louis’ third finger. Harry took his off the day he left. Now he wears it on a chain around his neck, and his hand unconsciously feels to make sure it’s still there.

“Let me get a look,” Niall smiles through watery eyes. “Nice hair,” he adds, appraising the curls resting on Harry’s shoulders.

”Thanks,” Harry started growing his hair out after the accident and now he only gets it trimmed when he feels the need. Which isn't too often.

“I’ve definitely seen you looking better,” Harry teases, knowing the man on the bed wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s known Niall for almost as long as he’s known Louis and his sharp sense of humor is legend.

“No shit,” Niall responds, his eyes lighting up before turning serious. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’m sorry I waited so long,” Harry’s own eyes fill with regret. The last time he actually saw Louis’ dad in person was over five months ago, and that had been a really brief stop to collect Cameron. Usually Harry has his mum or sister travel with him to do the actual picking up, but the one time they were both unavailable he asked Louis to leave their son at Niall’s. Now it’s torturing Harry that he only spent a few minutes with his father in law.

“Won’t have none of that guilt crap. You being here now is all that matters,” Niall whispers fiercely.

Harry still feels guilty, but he nods before turning to look briefly at Louis before jerking his gaze away.

“Don’t think he’s sleeping through the night,” Niall murmurs knowingly and Harry watches while he adjusts the prongs in his nose then huff in frustration when the apparatus slips right back to where it was before.

“He must be exhausted. Only a drained person could sleep so soundly in that position.”

“He's been leaving home every morning at six so he can spend time with Isabel before coming here around nine,” Niall explains, sounding troubled. “Insists on staying til visiting hours are over at six, and then he stays with the baby for as long as he can before he goes home. Cam insists on going with him instead of staying with the sitter and I admit I’m kind of relieved Lou’s not in that big house all by himself at night. He may not be sleeping, but at least he’s not alone.”

Harry’s still trying to listen, but the buzzing in his ears and his racing pulse started drowning Niall out the second he mentioned Louis’ daughter. It’s not Harry’s choice to be so affected by just hearing her name, but it’s next to impossible when she’s the result of Louis’ betrayal. When she represents everything that went wrong between them, but try telling that to his mum, sister, and even Niall.

When comes to Louis’ daughter they act like Harry asks for information about her. The three of them bring her up in almost every conversation and thanks to them Harry knows almost everything there is to know about Isabel Johannah Tomlinson.

She was born three months and seven days after he left Louis. She’s named after Niall’s wife and Louis’ birth mother. Isabel’s eyes are a few shades darker blue than her dad’s, but her hair is the same shade of deep sable brown as his. Her cheeks are perpetually rosy and at the chubby stage where they beg for kisses. Her first tooth came in when she was five months old. Now at six months, she has four; two on top and two on the bottom. She started sleeping through the night at two months and she’s already sitting up on her own. She adores her big brother, and Louis thinks she’ll walk at eight months like Cameron did.

They love filling Harry in on every detail; big and small, always ignoring the fact that he changes the subject as soon as they finish, but what pride keeps him from telling them is that he eats the information up and he looks at the pictures they send him like a starved person. It’s become a ritual for him to look at the images several times a day. He can’t help it. Louis’ daughter is perfect in every way and Harry's heart breaks every single time he looks at her.

“Thanks to the schedule I was on in the ICU he falls asleep every day around two, and every day he wakes up at four. Never fails,” Niall draws him from his thoughts again. “He had to get special permission to even visit me before two, but no one refuses Louis Tomlinson. Looking at him now I wish he wasn’t so famous around here.”

“You’re really better?” Harry asks, for once grateful for the special treatment they receive sometimes. Professional skateboarding might not be as popular as football in the U.K, but Louis and Harry’s level of success in the sport served to make them sort of celebrities. Their relationship and subsequent marriage only served to escalate their popularity. It’s weird to them, but they have fans all over the world.

“Was moved out of the ICU yesterday, so yeah,” Niall informs Harry, bringing him back to the conversation.

“Why didn’t he tell me you were critical?” Harry attempts to keep the censure out of his voice.

“I’ve had these spells before, and we didn’t bother you any of those times. It’s just, this one turned out to be a little more serious, and I…,” Niall stops short of whatever he was about to say. “Louis needs you, Harry. Now more than ever,” he says instead, his face pinched with worry.

“He never would have reached out to me if you hadn’t asked him to,” Harry fumes. When he found out about Isabel he thought his soon to be ex couldn’t hurt or disappoint him any worse, but he was wrong. “He would have waited until after you died if it had been left up to him.”

Niall’s response if he intended one is interrupted when Louis starts moving around and sure enough Harry sees it’s gone four when he glances at the clock on the wall.

Louis slowly sits up and stretches, never letting go of his dad’s hand. He leans back with his eyes closed to work the stiffness from his neck, moving his head in a circle then from side to side. The tee he has on rides low over his collar bones, showing part of the _It Is What It Is_ tattoo, and Harry stares hard. He can’t take his eyes off of his husband, but not for good reasons.

Louis looks lighter by a stone, the hollows underneath his are sunken and the thin skin is smudged from an obvious lack of sleep, and his cheekbones are more prominent than they’ve ever been. The headband he has on to keep the hair out of his face makes everything to stand out even more. Harry thought Louis looked drained when he sleeping, but the harsh impact of seeing the exhaustion etched all over his face causes him to speak out unintentionally.

“Louis.”

Louis gazes flits across the bed, and Harry makes eye contact with his husband for the first in nine months. The earth feels like it stops spinning. Everything stops.

“Hi,” Louis addresses Harry softly, quickly masking his initial surprise with a hesitant smile.

“Hey,” Harry responds without returning the gesture. He can’t smile when his heart is splintering without his permission for this fragile and unfamiliar version of the man he married. Another kind of awareness prickles at his skin, but the desire he’s felt for Louis from the beginning has always lurked somewhere near the surface, ready to escape at any given opportunity.

Harry doesn’t know how long they stare at each other. Maybe a few seconds, maybe the eternity it feels like, but the only thing to break the spell is a woman in black hospital garb coming into the room.

Harry’s never seen her before, but her bright smile is immediately welcoming, and suddenly he feels like he’s breathing again.

“Hi, lovelies,” the new arrival puts the satchel she’s toting on the small sofa in the corner of the room. Then she slips out of her coat before coming to stand beside Louis’ chair. Her creamy skin is flawless and in Harry’s opinion she’s striking enough to be an elderly model with her high cheekbones and hazel eyes. Only adding to the effect is the tight bun at the back of her head.

“You didn’t tell me the old battle axe was coming in early today,” Niall grouses, trying not to smile.

“The only old person in this room is an Irish nuisance who keeps forgetting I know how his boney and wrinkly arse looks,” the lady responds sassily. She sounds like an average southern Londoner, but the inflection she puts on some words hints at something else. Harry can’t put his finger on it, but he watches the exchange in fascination realizing she must be Arithea, the funny lady Cam says sits with his granddad.

“Hi, Arithea,” Louis interrupts them, confirming Harry’s guess. “Sorry, I thought I told you Isa has a doctor’s appointment today,” he continues, looking at Niall now.

“Don’t mind him. He has the memory of a carrot,” Arithea dismisses her charge with a wave of her hand. “So, who do we have here?”

She’s looking at Harry, but meeting her steady gaze he feels like she already knows the answer to her question.

“Carrots don’t have memories,” Niall responds arrogantly, preventing Harry from answering the nurse. “And you know very well this is Cam’s other dad. Harry, this is the nightmare Louis hired to take care of me. Against my wishes, I might add.”

“You can add anything you like, but it matters none to me. Nice to finally meet you Cameron’s other dad. He talks about you all the time,” Niall’s apparent nemesis extends her hand to Harry. “And it might have sounded like this grouch called me a nightmare, but he really said I’m the most dedicated and best caregiver ever.”

“If that’s what you heard you’re in need of a good inner ear washing,” Niall makes the comeback with ease.

“As much as I love listening to you two I have to get going,” Louis speaks up. “I’ll see you in the morning?” he leans over Niall to look him in the eyes after slipping on the denim jacket Harry owned before his then boyfriend took ownership of it. There’s an obvious need for assurance in the question, and despite all that’s happened Harry hates the fear he hears in Louis’ voice.

“You forgetting something?” Niall ignores the question, possibly because he can’t in all honestly tell his adopted son what he wants to hear.

“No, I didn’t forget,” Louis sighs before kissing his dad in almost the same spot Harry did earlier and when he straightens he looks across the bed. “I don’t know how long you plan on staying, but if you’d like you’re more than welcome to stay at the house. There’s more than enough room and Cam would love it. Besides it’s not like you’d be able to find a reasonable hotel room at this point,” Louis' voice fades like he’s run out of words to say and he folds his arms across his body while he waits for an answer.

When Louis retired from professional skateboarding seven years ago they purchased the big house so they could raise Cameron near Niall and Isabel. Harry hasn’t stepped a foot inside of it in nine months and it wasn’t his intention to when he agreed to come home, but he’s not about to turn down an opportunity to spend more time with his son.

“Actually, I’m here for as long as I’m needed. So yeah, if it’s really not a bother, and you’re right, the hotel I booked is ridiculously overpriced,” Harry gratefully accepts the offer to stay in his own home. Like Louis cleverly stated there’s more than enough room for them to stay out of each other’s way.

Louis looks like he didn’t expect Harry to accept the offer and his lack of response creates an awkward silence that Arithea has to break. “You’ll be late if you don’t get a move on, sweetheart.”

“You’re right,” Louis gives Niall’s nurse an appreciative smile. “I’d like to surprise Cam if you don’t mind,” he adds, looking at Harry again.

“Sounds like fun,” Harry agrees quietly. He initially assumed Louis wouldn’t want him to intrude on his holiday time with their son, and he didn’t tell Cam he was going to be in town. In this instance he doesn’t mind being wrong.

“I guess I’ll see you a little later,” Louis turns to Niall’s nurse before Harry can respond. 

“I’ll call you at seven and again at ten,” Arithea reassures him and it’s obvious to Harry that they have a routine.

The tight hug Louis gives her speaks for itself. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispers, but his voice carries in the small room.

Harry listens, trying not to be devastated. After twelve years of marriage he can’t remember once hearing Louis say those words to him, but now he’s saying them to someone he’s known three months at the most.

“I know what I’d do without her,” Niall whispers. Only it’s stretching to call it a whisper.

“And what would that be, Mr. Horan?” Arithea asks with a hand on each hip, glaring fondly at her patient.

“I’d do me an Irish jig. No, make that two. Then I’d have me a couple of really cold ones. That’s what I’d do,” Niall answers, apparently not all threatened.

“Surely, you don’t mean one of those dark and frothy Guinness’ that you talk about so much. The ones you say are strong enough to make hair grow on your chest, but still go down so smooth it’s like drinking a pint of paradise on earth,” Arithea talks in a perfect Irish accent and she smirks with a triumphant glint in her brownish green eyes when her patient thirstily licks his lips.

“I hate you,” Niall mumbles, but his eyes haven’t sparkled like that since Bella died. Harry looks over at Louis questioningly, but he just shrugs like he’s used to the back and forth. Then he walks out of the room.

“I hate you more, but seeing as it’s the season to be nice I’ll follow Louis out to give you some time alone with this handsome chap. There’s a waiting room just down the hall where I can practice my socializing skills until you’re ready to leave,” Arithea tells Harry with a shrewd look in her eyes despite the light tone to her words. “Don’t let him get too excited,” she tacks on, sounding more serious.

“I’ll try my best,” Harry likes the woman Louis hired. It’s easy to see taking care of Niall is not just another job to her.

“A real menace, that one,” Niall says after the door closes.

“I think she might be good for you,” Harry counters. “She from London?”

“Born and raised in Islington where her dad was born, but her mum was from Quebec.”

That explains the extra something in her accent, but Harry’s curious about something else now. “How long ago did Louis hire her?”

“Bit over four months ago. It was that or agree to move in with my son, but I couldn’t see myself burdening him like that. His hands are full enough, don’t you think?”

Harry overlooks the accusing tone. “Cameron loves Arithea and Louis depends on her. Never seen him like that before, not even when Bella died,” he instantly knows the remark he is petty and insensitive, but it slipped out before he could stop it. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. Not only was it unfair, but you’re wrong. How was Louis supposed to depend on somebody when I was depending on him for everything? One minute she was here and in the next she was gone. She was the love of my life, Harry. I wanted to die with her. I would’ve given up if it weren’t for Lou staying with me, sleeping with me, feeding me, making all the arrangements, and whatever else I couldn’t do for myself. You know that better than anyone.”

“Then while he was being strong for you, he should’ve let me be strong for him?” Harry responds, his turn to sound accusing.

“Kind of hard to do when you’re in another country.”

“You know I offered to come home, but he insisted I finish the competition,” Harry answers tersely. It was one of the tournaments on the World Tour and an X-Game qualifier. Still, he would have dropped out in a heartbeat, but Louis wouldn’t hear of it and Harry made it home an hour before Isabel’s funeral to find everything taken care of just like Louis told him it would be. He even flew out the next day to make it another qualifier. Again at Louis’ insistence.

“Do you remember when your mum took Cam for the week after the funeral?” Niall continues without waiting for Harry to respond. “Louis loved Bella so much, but I was so wrapped up in me own pain I didn’t see his. He stayed in my bed for two days balled up in that blasted knot unless he talked to you or Cam. What do you think he would have done if you had dropped out of the competition? Came home to be with him? Given him a shoulder to lean on for once?”

They’re questions Harry can’t answer. He never had to consider either option because Louis made it where he didn’t need to. “It’s not that simple,” he argues.

“No it’s not is it, but maybe it would be if I tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

Niall’s statement nor his intent stare make sense to Harry, but a soft knock on the door prevents him from getting the explanation he asked for and this time an intense looking man in blue scrubs under a white lab coat comes into the room. Harry clearly sees the name Liam Payne embroidered above the left pocket of the white coat with more letters behind it. He only understands what the _PhD_ means, but he’s sure the other credentials are impressive.

The somber looking doctor cleans his hands with sanitizer before walking to stand by Niall’s bed after giving Harry a brief nod. “How’s our patient today?” He’s already putting a stethoscope in his ears, but at least he waits for an answer.

“Alive,” Niall sounds friendly, but more subdued than Harry's heard him the entire time he's been in the room.

“That’s a good thing, innit?” There’s a cynical lift to one eyebrow as the man leans over Niall to slide the stethoscope inside the top of the hospital gown. “Might be a little cold, but you know that already don’t you?” 

Harry watches quietly while Niall follows instructions to take deep breaths and let them out slowly. When he’s done with the front, the doctor helps Niall sit up to do the same to his back. “Your lungs sound really good today.”

“Breathing better too,” Niall says with relief.

“That’s to be expected with all that fluid gone from your lungs. I really think we’re on the road to recovery, but to be sure I’m ordering a test called an ABG. It'll let us know how much oxygen is in your blood and if the numbers are good enough we’ll discontinue this. Maybe work on getting you home,” Dr. Payne lifts the oxygen tube lying across Niall’s chest. “I’m turning this off because the test will be inaccurate with it on. How does that feel? No shortness of breath?”

Niall takes the prongs out his nose as soon as he hears the whoosh of released pressure after the wall unit shuts off and he breathes a deep sigh of relief. “Been telling you for two days I don’t need it anymore,” he breathes in deeply one more time.

“Yeah, well if you start to feel dizzy or short of breath tell Arithea immediately. Push the call button if you’re alone.”

“I will, and before you go the quiet chap over here is Louis’ husband, Harry,” Niall makes the introduction with pride in his voice.

Pride Harry feels he doesn’t deserve as he stands up to offer the man his hand. Before he thought Niall’s doctor was all business with little to no bedside manner, but he sees something distinctly unfriendly flicker in the brown eyes before it’s masked with politeness. “I’m guessing you’re Dr. Payne,” Harry nods to the name on the lab coat.

“Call me, Liam. You have two beautiful children.”

Harry tenses at the challenge in the statement. “Thank you,” he meets the direct stare with one of his own. He doesn’t know what, but something stops him from saying he only has one child.

“Zayn should be in shortly to draw your blood, and I’ll see you sometime tomorrow morning if you don’t have any questions for me,” Liam gives his attention back to his patient. He walks out of the room a few minutes later, only acknowledging Harry with another brief nod.

Harry’s mind is racing. He can think of a lot of possible explanations for the rudeness, but the one possibility that keeps coming to his mind has his heart pounding against his chest wall. “A friend of Louis’?” he asks, trying to keep the suspicion out of his voice.

Louis might not do friends, but like most men his age he does have a healthy sexual appetite. Really healthy. Harry knows from experience, and although they were sometimes apart for months neither of them have ever gone this long without sex. If Louis actually has.

“Who?” Niall opens his eyes to look at Harry with a blank expression.

“You know who,” Harry accuses impatiently.

“Think they’ve had dinner a couple of times,” Niall admits impassively. “Why? Does it bother you? Nine months is a long time to ask someone to wait.”

“I never asked Louis to wait,” Harry charges, but until he received the divorce papers he never gave a thought to Louis moving on either.

“No, you didn’t did you? As a matter of fact, you haven’t said much to him at all,” Niall responds, but it’s not the exact truth. Cameron might be Harry’s biological child, but it was never a doubt that Louis would keep primary custody of him. So Harry actually talks to Louis a lot.

They talk about what weekends he can have his son. They talked several times when they planned the month he had Cameron over the summer. They talked when they decided Cameron would spend Christmas with Louis and the rest of the holidays with Harry. They talk about their son’s grades, about the stomach virus that laid him up for two days, about him possibly needing braces to correct a slight overbite, but that’s it. Only about Cameron and never about the reason behind their split. Not that Louis didn’t try at first, but he finally got the message when Harry hung up even if he hinted at talking about anything else. When he quit trying they could actually talk civilly. They still do.

“What exactly do you say to the person who destroyed your trust and broke your heart? I was fighting for my life, but Louis must have missed that tiny detail while he was planning to have another child,” Harry says, still sounding crushed even after all the time he's had to deal with the betrayal.

“It’s the only reason I haven’t come after you with Jack,” Niall responds, getting a small smile out of Harry for his effort.

Jack is the bat Niall used to keep the rowdy patrons in his bar under control. Oddly enough the thick piece of wood is also the namesake for Harry’s dog.

“You’re talking like he cheated on you, and you know he didn’t. He never would.”

Harry’s about to ask Niall what he calls Louis dating the unfriendly doctor then because last time he checked they were still married. The only thing that stops him is another person coming through the door blocks him. The constant interruptions fall into the list of bad memories he still has from his hospital stay.

The new visitor is a tall man dressed almost identically to Niall’s doctor except this one’s scrubs are black like Arithea’s. The name Zayn Malik is just as visible too, but there’s a dash after Malik. Thanks to an ink pen and a stethoscope Harry can only make out a P as the first letter and what looks like a y as the third or fourth. The letters _PhD_ follow his name along with more confusing letters, but unlike the first doctor with similar credentials this one gives Harry a genuine smile before walking over to the bed.

He gives Niall an even friendlier smile before sitting a basket full of tubes and vials needed to draw blood on the bedside stand. “Aren’t you the improved one?”

“I’m not complaining,” Niall answers with a fist bump. “Don’t tell me I’m so special I get the top dog to draw my blood today.”

“Not really. We’re sorely understaffed because of the holidays, but I did choose your case intentionally. I guess you can have that,” Dr. Malik dash something indulges the older man.

“Good boy,” Niall winks before turning to look at Harry. “Haz, this fine gent is the laboratory head of this noble establishment. Zayn, this is Louis’ husband, Harry.”

“I know who you are, Harry Styles,” the new doctor sounds friendly.

“Harry Tomlinson,” Harry corrects him before he thinks about it. He only uses Styles professionally. After being a Tomlinson for more than twelve years Styles sounds weird when he’s not touring, but maybe he should get used to not making the correction.

At least one person in the room approves. “Always liked the way that sounded,” Niall tells him with a proud smile.

“Well, Harry Tomlinson, Li told me you were here and knowing my husband like I do, I’m sure I need to apologize for him. He’s known for budding in where he shouldn’t.”

Harry’s confused because he has no idea who Li is. Or what he budded in on. “Who’s Li?”

“I’m sorry. I meant, Liam Payne. Niall’s doctor and the man who was probably just rude to you,” the more cordial doctor expands.

“Oh,” Harry neither confirms nor denies the accusation, but he turns to look at the person who is more than likely a liar.

“What have you done, Mr. Horan?” Zayn slides the chair Louis had been sitting in close to the bed.

“I might’ve told him Lou’s had dinner with Liam a couple of times. Possibly left out you were there with them,” Niall confesses unabashedly.

Zayn bursts out laughing, so hard his eyes crinkle in the corners. “I assure you I was there each time. So was Cameron. So was mine and Li's daughter, Samantha,” he tells Harry, still smiling. “To explain a bit more, we moved here over the summer for Liam to take over the practice from Niall’s former cardiologist. Cameron and Samantha hit it off at the beginning of the school term. Meeting Louis was a natural progression.”

“Seems like Louis gained fast friends too,” Harry responds. If he sounds a little resentful it’s Louis’ fault.

To his credit the laboratory head ignores the pettiness. “Actually his first contact was with our sitter Dianne, but you’re right once we met the connection happened pretty fast. Louis is a great person and he’s turned out to be a really good friend.”

“The same Dianne who’s watching Isabel for Louis?” Harry guides the conversation in another direction because he doesn’t have anything to add to the remark about Louis’ friendship skills. As far as he always knew Lois didn’t have any.

“Cameron too during the day since it's the holidays, but we kind of live out of the way so it’s more convenient for Isa to stay over,” Zayn continues to explain patiently, showing no sign of irritation at the interrogation.

The same can’t be said for Harry. “Can see where it would be."

“Good then,” Zayn responds before turning back to an unusually quiet Niall. “Liam explain to you what I’ll be doing?”

“Said something a test, but it went over my head as usual.”

“The test is called an ABG or arterial blood gas. Simply put, I’ll be drawing blood directly from your radial artery, the pulse on your wrist,” Zayn clarifies when Niall frowns up at him. “I’ll numb the area first, but you might still feel some discomfort. I’ve heard some people say it burns a little. I’ve had some say it feels like a small electric shock, but whatever you feel I really need you to hold still okay.”

“Can’t be much different from the other thousand times I’ve been poked and prodded since I’ve been here,” Niall responds, winking at Harry.

“Let’s hope so,” Dr. Malik-Payne reaches in the tray to pull out a pair of latex gloves that he slips on after gathering everything he needs to draw the blood from the tray. “This is just the lidocaine I’ll use to numb the area,” he holds up a syringe with a small amount of clear liquid in it before feeling around on Niall’s wrist with his pointing finger. After locating the pulse he uses an alcohol swab to clean the area. “A little pinch.”

“Didn’t feel a thing,” Niall brags after Zayn pulls the small needle out of his skin.

“That’s promising,” Zayn tells him after wiping the area again. “Okay, here we go. Remember there may be some discomfort,” he removes the cap from an empty syringe and immediately inserts the needle almost at an upright angle. Harry can tell Zayn’s done the procedure more than once and he looks on in fascination at how precise the doctor is.

Maybe not so easy for Niall.

“Mother-Fucker!” he growls through clinched teeth.

“Sorry,” Zayn apologizes, but his focus is on the needle he’s already pulling out of Niall’s skin. With one hand he immediately presses down on the spot with a cotton ball. With the other he inserts the needle back into the cap. “Wasn’t that bad was it?”

“No, just felt like someone plucked a hair out of me balls,” Niall’s sarcasm is rewarded with winces from Harry and the doctor.

“Ouch,” Harry holds his head down to hide his laughter.

“Never heard it described like that before, but okay,” Zayn says, chuckling as he continues to apply pressure. “Have to do this for a few minutes. Can’t have you bleeding out after that can we?” he teases until Harry’s eyes go wide with alarm. “There’s no chance of that, but we drew the blood from an artery so it can bleed longer than if it were drawn from a vein.”

“That’s a relief,” Niall wipes imaginary sweat from his brow.

“Well that’s it,” Dr. Malik-Payne looks under the cotton ball one more time before placing a piece of tape over it. “Let’s get this back on,” he stands up to turn the oxygen back on and situate the prongs back into Niall’s nose.

“Thanks a lot, doc,” Niall says sarcastically, trailing Zayn as he discards the needles and his gloves.

“You have to wear it until we get the results back,” Zayn responds apologetically. “I’m off for the rest of the week, but I’ll put a rush on this and I’ll check on you before I leave tonight.”

“Can't leave without looking in my pretty blues, can you?” Niall teases.

“Something like that,” Zayn says dryly. “Nice meeting you, Harry. Maybe we’ll see each other outside of these digs, yeah?”

“Maybe,” Harry replies, not wanting to totally shoot the doctor down. Not after he’s been so nice, but as soon as the door closes he turns accusing eyes on Louis’ calculating dad. “You knew what I’d think when you said Louis had dinner with that man’s husband.”

“He came in before I could finish, but it’s nice to know that you're still in love with my son,” Niall answers unfazed.

“Of course I'm in love with him," Harry says incredulously. "I never once said I wasn't, but that doesn’t make forgiving Louis any easier. Or even at this point a possibility.”

Niall shakes his head in exasperation. “Why not? It’s been nine months, Harry. I don’t understand.”

“Actually he only waited seven months before he sent me divorce papers, and he’s your son I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Harry’s own family can’t understand how he walked away from his marriage. Sometimes it’s hard for him to even understand, and seeing Louis today for the first time in so long makes him question his actions even more.

“I don’t agree at all with what Louis did, but I don’t agree with how you handled it either,” Niall adds unnecessarily.

Harry’s more than aware of that, but nothing changes the fact that he’s the victim in all of this. Louis is one hundred percent to blame no matter how many defenders he has. “It’s obvious this has been hard on him,” he attempts to change the subject because they won't ever see eye to eye on this.

“You don’t think this is all about me, do ya’? Let’s see, in the span of three years he lost the only woman who was ever a real mother to him, his husband followed that with a near fatal skateboarding accident. To top it off his marriage collapsed,” Niall drags a wrinkled and spotted hand over his face. “Add in a chronically ill old man, two children, and the stress of seeing you for the first time in nine months. It was all bound to catch up with him at some point.”

“Louis will be fine. He always is,” Harry insists, starting to feel claustrophobic. He came home for Niall, not to be swamped with doubt and guilt where Louis is concerned.

“One of these days I won’t make it. I almost didn’t this time. I’m not afraid of dying, but I’m terrified of what it’ll do to my boy," Niall’s voice breaks.

“Don’t talk like that, you're not going anywhere anytime soon,” Harry orders, fear crawling up his spine. Even the thought of Niall dying is almost unbearable. Especially now that Bella's gone.

“I’m sorry, but it’s a fact of life,” Niall sighs. “There’s so much I need to tell you, but I’m really tired. Always happens so fucking fast now. I think visiting hours are over soon anyway.”

Harry’s more than willing to drop the uncomfortable conversation. Plus he can see the weariness all over Niall’s face.

“Go home, son. Go be strong for Louis for once. We’ll talk tomorrow, and bring a six pack with you. It might take a while.”

Harry doesn’t say anything because Niall is already half asleep. Instead he sits quietly, looking at the man who’s become like a second dad to him.

Harry doesn’t look away until Arithea comes back in a few minutes later. With Niall sound asleep for who knows how long he sees no reason to stay so he leaves with a promise to return sometime the next day.

∞∞∞

Harry steers the rental into the long circular driveway of the two story Georgian style home and he shuts the headlights off before doing the same to the engine. It’s only been a little over a day since he got the phone call from Louis and already he’s had to process so much. He never expected things to remain the same, but he for sure didn’t expect a lifetime worth of change to happen in nine months.

The only Louis Harry’s ever known has always been independent and in control, but that’s not the Louis he encountered in Niall’s room. That Louis was frail and exhausted. At the same time he was open in ways Harry’s never seen before. He has people now who actually consider him a close friend. He has people in his life that he allows himself to depend on. All in the space of nine fucking months and as illogical as it is Harry can’t figure out how to deal with feeling overwhelmingly left out.

They weren’t exactly hermits before they separated. They socialized with several of the parents from Cameron’s school. With Harry’s friends even more, but only because Louis was content with not having close friends of his own. He was always adamant that his family were the only people he needed in his life and until today Harry believed him.

Until today Harry never realized he was selfish enough for it not to bother him. He had been perfectly fine not having to share Louis.

It’s almost too much to absorb in such a short amount of time. The temptation to leave and see if his hotel room is still available is so strong Harry turns the car on. Only the thought of Cameron waiting has him putting the car in gear and driving up to the front of the two story house he chose with Louis seven years ago.

The house is modest compared to most upscale homes of the same design, but it has more than enough room for a family of three. Louis fell in love with it before he saw it in person. Which took some heavy maneuvering in itself because of their tight schedules. Moving from one competition to another.

They had to fly in from the states just to see the house. Louis had to schedule a late appointment, and when they got there the realtor had every light on. It was a breathtaking sight to drive up to. Harry was halfway in love from the view alone, but when Louis said it felt like home the second he stepped through the door, it was a fait accompli.

Harry admits he was feeling something similar and it turned out to be an easy sale for the realtor. Even now, after nine months of not being here he has to ignore the same pull as he takes the steps leading to the front door.

Ringing the doorbell feels strange. It makes Harry even more bitter because technically it’s still his house too, but he can’t just use the key he never relinquished.

He second guesses the decision when it seems like Louis is taking forever to answer. His finger is poised to ring the doorbell again when he hears the familiar voice telling to come in. Louis is speaking louder than he normally does, but the words are still muted behind the heavy wood.

Harry’s nervous stomach becomes more nervous as he tentatively opens the door to see Louis standing in the foyer with his hands covering their son’s eyes. Cameron’s standing on top of Louis’ bare feet. He’s sockless too and he’s holding onto Louis’ wrists.

As usual whenever he’s within eye or earshot of his son Harry’s heart almost bursts with pride and love. Looking at him now he can’t believe how much Cameron looks like he did at the same age. The only difference is Harry's hair hadn’t started to curl at nine. The wavy pattern was there, but not the full on curls. Cam already has a head full of loose almost blond ringlets.

Harry also had a growth spurt when he was seventeen, but it looks like Cameron’s growth spurt will happen much sooner. His head is already resting against Louis’ ribcage. 

Harry's smile grows and he closes the door before sitting his bags on the spotless wood floor. Then he waits for further instruction from Louis.

“I’ll give you two more guesses, which I think is overly fair since you’ve already guessed wrong three times,” Louis speaks into the top of Cameron’s head, kissing it when their son looks up like he can see through his dad’s hands.

“Uhm, is it Uncle Li and Uncle Zayn?” Cameron asks with innocent enthusiasm that leaves Harry puzzled and more than a little jealous.

Just how close are they to the two doctors? He had Cam for a weekend last month and he’s talked to him a thousand times since. Never once has he heard his son refer to the two men as uncles. How’s it even possible when he only met their daughter at the beginning of the school term.

“Now does that count as two guesses? Either way you’re wrong, but one more try,” Louis wiggles his fingers over their son’s eyes, teasing him. “So Cameron James Tomlinson, who is your mystery guest?” 

“Is it Auntie Gem?”

“No, but I’m a generous person so I’ll give you one more try,” Louis teases, obviously having fun dragging the mystery out.

“Daddy, please!”

Harry’s looks fondly at the fidgety boy still standing on his dad’s feet. His smiles deepens at the impatience in Cameron's voice because he sounds just like Louis does when he gets frustrated. Their nine year old might look like him, but his temperament and personality is all Louis.

“Since you put it so nicely,” Louis says with only a trace amount of sarcasm before lowering his hands from Cameron’s eyes.

Harry watches his son’s face transition from excited expectation to outright delight.

“Dad!” he lets go of Louis’ wrists to sprint across the foyer where Harry is squatted and waiting with open arms.

Cameron runs into him with so much force it almost knocks him over, but Harry steadies before he can. He swings his son around when he stands up.

“Hey, buddy,” he stops just to breathe Cameron in and revel in the happy sounds coming from him. The separation was hard on him, but he’s never expressed any kind of anger towards Harry or tried to make him feel guilty for leaving.

“Didn’t think I’d see you for four more days,” Cameron says, his green eyes happy as he slides to the floor.

“Good surprise then?” Harry questions, already missing the feel of his son in his arms.

“Great surprise,” Cameron slips his hand into his dad’s much bigger one.

“I’m happy you’re happy,” Harry smiles down the upturned face.

“Not fair. Dad was my first guess,” Cameron looks over at his other dad.

“But that would’ve spoiled it. Where’s the fun in that?” Louis teases innocently, but their son doesn’t buy it.

“You cheated and I deserve a reward. Right dad?” Cameron looks to Harry.

“I believe you do,” Harry agrees, ruffling the unbelievably soft curls. He's waiting for the awkwardness between him and Louis to show up. So far it hasn’t.

“I suggested Cam wait to eat with his surprise guest so we have pasta waiting if you’d like to join us,” Louis changes the subject in his favour.

“I’d love to, I’m starving,” Harry accepts the offer, but he really didn't have a choice because Cameron's already pulling him towards the kitchen.

“It’s nothing fancy. Just leftover primavera,” Louis begins walking, leaving his husband and son to trail behind him.

“I’m sure it’s delicious,” Harry's thinking of the Italian restaurant Louis probably ordered it from.

“It’s yummy,” Cameron supplies enthusiastically.

“Dining room or kitchen?” Louis looks over his shoulder to smile at his son.

“Kitchen,” Cameron answers without hesitating, and instead of walking into the spacious dining room they walk into the even more spacious kitchen.

Louis walks over to the stove to take the lid of a skillet and stir the contents with a wooden spoon. Without prompting Cameron lets go of Harry’s hand to pick up the three plates sitting on the counter. He begins setting the table, and unwilling to just stand around Harry decides to pitch in. He grabs three glasses from one of the cabinets to sit them beside the plates before grabbing napkins while Cameron grabs the forks and when they sit down Louis places a bowl of the vegetable and pasta mix in front of them.

“We have juice as well as some of Niall’s beer. There's also wine, tea, and water,” Louis says before walking over to the refrigerator. “And of course coffee.”

“Water’s good,” Harry responds, not in the mood for anything else.

“Cam, do you want milk?” Louis asks.”

“Beer’s good,” Cameron mimics Harry’s tone, but the attempt is lost when he immediately starts giggling.

“You wish,” Louis responds dryly, fighting a smile.

“Then I’ll take water like me dad,” Cameron does a pretty good imitation of Niall this time.

Harry rewards his son with a high five. “Should I dish out the pasta?” he asks when Louis comes to the table with a large bottle of water. Presumably for the three of them to share.

“If you’d like,” Louis removes the cap from the water. He pours equal amounts into their glasses, and he grabs a basket of breadsticks before he sits down on the L shaped window seat.

The bench is built into the wall under a huge bow window and it gives them a perfect view of the backyard. Harry does his best to ignore the cozy picture they’re painting as he spoons the pasta onto to each of their plates. Missing times like this was one of the hardest things he had to get used to. When he was home spending family time like this with Louis and Cameron were the moments he treasured the most.

“Where’s Jack Jr.?” Cameron asks then proceeds to dig into his food. He sucks a piece of the penne in his mouth, leaving a small dollop of the creamy sauce on his bottom lip. He licks it off before going back for another bite with equal gusto.

“At the doggy sitters,” Harry answers the question, but attempts to ignore how it reminds him of how attached he's grown to his dog.

Cameron was with him when he got Jack Jr., and it was his idea to name him after Niall’s stick. He said since he had his granddad’s middle name and Isa was named after Bella they should name the dog after the piece of wood Niall treated like another son. Seemed like perfect logic to Harry. The terrier looked like a Jack anyway.

“I’ve seen pictures. He looks lovely,” Louis sounds in, surprising Harry.

“Can dad bring him here, please?” Cameron gives Louis his best beseeching look.

“You don’t have to do that,” Harry rushes before Louis can answer. They don’t know how long he’s staying. Maybe not long if Niall continues improving like he is. “If I’m here for more than a couple of days mum’s driving down to collect him for me.”

“I don’t see a problem,” Louis surprises him again. “Cam’s been asking for a dog. Maybe we can look at this as a trial run. See how he takes care of Jack Jr. while he’s here.”

“I’ll take care of him, I promise,” Cameron pledges eagerly. “He can even sleep in my room.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asks. He doesn’t want to turn down the offer. He hated leaving his dog at the vet’s, but it still seems like an imposition.

“I’m sure,” Louis assures him, but he’s looking at their son.

“I’ll pick him up tomorrow then,” Harry gives in with more than a small amount of gratitude.

“Yay!” Cameron exclaims causing both of his parents to smile fondly at him.

“So how did the doctor’s appointment go?” Louis didn’t say why he had to take Isabel to the physician, and Harry admits he’s curious. Maybe even a little concerned.

“It was just a routine checkup,” Louis answers noncommittally.

Harry has no choice, but to assume that means everything's fine with Isabel. “This is really tasty,” he says to cover up the tense silence. “La Famiglia’s?” he names the popular Italian eatery they’ve eaten at on several occasions. Although he doesn’t remember primavera being on the menu.

“Actually, I cooked it myself,” Louis responds quietly after taking a sip of water.

“You’re joking,” Harry responds with astonishment. Not because he doesn’t believe Louis. It’s obvious from the somber tone he’s telling the truth, but Harry knows from horrifying experience after horrifying experience that Louis is helpless in the kitchen. At least he was.

“I’ve been cooking for months now. Nothing as grand or as good as you, but I can produce some edible fare,” Louis replies, moving the food around on his plate. “I couldn’t expect Niall to feed us every day and I couldn’t allow Cameron to live on takeout forever. So I taught myself how to prepare a few dishes,” he shrugs his shoulders like it was a simple to task to learn how to cook something this good in a matter months.

“I told you about the pot roast daddy made last month. It was so good,” Cameron becomes an innocent participant in the revealing conversation, and yes Harry remembers him going on and on about the roast.

He just believed Louis ordered out. It was easy to believe since he was the one who did all of the cooking when he was home. Louis was only good for a bowl of cereal or anything microwaveable.

When Harry was touring Louis and Cameron more often than ate with Niall and Bella. If not they ate the meals Harry prepared in advance and froze for them. After Bella died Niall took over, but Louis transitioned to home delivery when his dad's health started getting worse.

“I do remember,” Harry tells his son before he turns to Louis. “I’m sorry, I thought you were still ordering from the delivery service,” his tone is accusation free, but not his eyes. This is all Louis’ fault. All of it. Even the guilt Harry’s feeling can ultimately be blamed on Louis’ deceit.

“It’s fine,” Louis responds quietly, the first to break the eye contact.

“You’re home and now daddy can cook for you too. Wait until you try the vegetable soup and the parma chicken and mash. Just whatever you do, please don’t ask for the meat pies,” Cameron makes the retching motion.

“It was my first attempt mister, and I tried to copy Jamie Oliver’s recipe exactly,” Louis says, grinning when he reaches over to tug on one of his son's curls.

"Can I repeat what granddad said about Jamie Oliver after he stopped gagging?" Cameron asks.

Louis looks horrified. “You most definitely cannot! Dad was only trying to protect my feelings, but he never should've used that kind of language in front of you."

"But it was so funny," Cameron's smiling so hard his dimples look like small craters.

"Actually I’ve been thinking about trying again,” Louis teases, wiping the smile off his son's face and eliciting a horrified vow from him.

“No, please. I promise I'll keep my room clean forever plus three days if you don't.”

Harry takes a bite of his breadstick to keep from laughing. “That bad, huh?”

“They were awful,” Cameron answers with a shiver at the same time Louis says, “Was not.”

They go back to their pasta after Louis sticks his tongue out at Cameron and the kitchen is quiet until Harry looks up to find the their son looking back and forth between him and Louis, grinning from ear to ear.

“What?” Harry asks. Too late he thinks he should have ignored the knowing look.

“I knew you’d come back,” Cameron tells him with all the certainty of a nine year old who believes what he’s saying.

Harry’s eyes immediately shoot to Louis, accusation clouding them again, but Louis is looking at Cameron with something close to distress in his.

“Cam, no. I’m sorry, but your dad's only here until Grandpa Niall gets better. I just thought it’d be nice if he stayed here with you instead of a stuffy hotel room,” Louis’ eyes are pleading, and although Harry doesn’t have an ounce of sympathy for him he’s trying to think of a way to rescue the situation when Cameron does it himself.

“It’s okay. It’s still the best surprise and granddad will keep getting better. You’ll see,” he assures Louis without letting his smile slip. “Glad you’re here, dad,” he adds, grinning at Harry and chewing a slice of carrot for all its worth.

“Me too, buddy,” Harry responds softly.

A few minutes later he notices Louis isn’t eating anymore. He’s only moving the food around on his plate again and taking intermittent sips of water. With his visible weight loss he needs every calorie on his plate. For that reason alone Harry blames himself. He just realized too late Louis never intended for Cameron to think he was home for good.

The one thing Harry’s never questioned is Louis’ dedication as a parent. How could he when his husband was so determined to be a hands on dad that he dropped out of the pro circuit when Cam turned two. He never looked back, and Harry never quite understood how he could give up something so easily. Something he had literally poured his blood, sweat, and tears into. They may have been each other's the fiercest competitors. Harry nor Louis would give an inch when it came to competing, but that didn't stop them from being each other's strongest supporter. On and off the ramps, and in a sport where nothing was ever guaranteed Harry depended on Louis' support more than anything. Even more than winning, but one day it was gone.

Harry felt like a part of him had been ripped away unfairly, but other than asking Louis if he was sure he wasn’t making a mistake he never said anything. He was good at keeping quiet about things that bothered him.

“If you’re done you can get your shower and I’m sure your dad can be convinced to read to you tonight,” Louis smiles at Cameron, but Harry sees it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I read on my own. Dad knows that,” Cameron asserts stubbornly.

“Oh right, I forget you’re such a big boy now. Well maybe he’ll play that new video game you love so much. What’s it called?”

“You’ve played it with me a hundred times, daddy,” Cameron sounds put off. “It’s called _OlliOlli_.”

“Right, that's it,” Louis smiles, obviously teasing.

“How about we play the game first and when we’re done you can read to me,” Harry offers, wanting to fit in.

“Deal,” Cameron agrees, sliding off the bench behind Louis.

“I figured you’d want the room next to Cam’s so I put fresh sheets on the bed in there,” Louis says before picking up their plates, and walking them over to the sink.

“Thanks,” Harry replies genially, knowing by the tense set of his shoulders Louis is upset. “I’ll go up too. I could use a shower myself.”

“I guess I’ll see you in the morning if you’re up before Cam and I leave,” Louis tells him without turning around.

Unable to deny himself Harry runs his eyes over Louis one last time before he follows Cameron out of the kitchen, but he stops when they reach the bottom of the stairs. “You go ahead. I have to get my bags. I’ll meet you in your room in a bit.”

“Take your time, dad. I still have to call Sam,” Cameron waves before he continues up the stairs.

Harry didn’t lie to Cameron. His luggage is still in the entryway where he left it, but that doesn't stop him from turning in the opposite direction. He needs to ask Louis if it's okay to keep Cam with him tomorrow. There’s also a small part of him that wants to make sure Louis is okay. Just because Harry’s angry doesn’t mean he can’t be concerned.

Especially when his need to make Louis the bad guy in everything is the main reason he’s upset, but Harry stops in his tracks right before he steps in the kitchen because Louis standing in the same spot. Only now his arms are wrapped around his waist and he's half bent over like he’s in pain.

It’s an agonizing sight. One Harry’s not ready to deal with and he backs out of the entrance before Louis sees him.

∞∞∞

It’s almost an hour later when Harry’s showered and collected himself enough to keep his word to his son, but when he walks into Cameron’s room he’s surprised to find him already in bed, looking intently at his phone. His chin so tucked into his chest it looks tripled.

Harry’s seen that look enough to know someone’s willing his phone to ring.

“Sam didn’t answer, but she’ll call back,” Cameron says confidently.

“I’m sure she will,” Harry wonders for the hundredth time if his son might have a crush on his best friend. “No _OlliOlli_ tonight?”

“Not really in the mood.”

“I’m guessing you don’t want to read either?”

“Sorry, dad.”

“You really just want to talk to Sam, huh?”

“Will you stay until she calls?”

“Of course,” Harry wasn’t planning on leaving anyway. Moments like this are too rare as it is. “Scoot,” he orders before laying down on the twin bed.

Like he always does when Harry gets into bed with him, Cameron rests his head on his dad’s chest. He smells like soap and toothpaste, and Harry hates they don’t get to do this every night. Something else he can lay the blame for at Louis’ feet. “So, Cam and Sam. Kind of rhymes doesn’t it?” he teases to cheer himself and his son up.

“Not funny the first thousand times we heard it or now,” Cameron says humorlessly, then starts tracing the rose tattoo on Harry’s arm before moving down to trace the anchor on the back of his wrist. “How old do I have to be to get a tattoo?”

“Well that’s a new one, but I’d say when you’re about twenty never,” Harry half teases. It’s a familiar conversation, but usually Cameron old only wants to hear the stories behind his and Louis’ tattoos.

“Dad, I’m serious.”

“Sorry,” Harry stops teasing. “I don’t know, I think when you’re old enough for it to be legal for sure, but also when you realize you’re marking your skin permanently. I don’t regret a single one of my tattoos. I don’t think daddy does either and that’s what we’d want for you. It’s not something to take lightly.”

Cameron stays quiet for so long Harry thinks he must have fallen asleep. When he starts talking again Harry wishes he had. “I know Daddy said you’re only here for granddad, but you’re not leaving again are you?”

Harry knew why he stayed away for so long the second he stepped foot in the house. Why he never collected Cameron or dared look Louis in the face for nine whole months. He never would’ve left if he had, but he can’t tell his son that. “It’s not that simple, buddy,” he says instead. “A lot’s happened between Daddy and me.”

“He’s sorry, you know,” Cameron responds.

“He’s sorry about what?” Harry asks cautiously because Cameron can’t mean what it sounds like he means.

“Daddy didn’t mean to lie about that surrogate lady being pregnant with Isa. He just got scared when you kept saying you weren’t ready for another baby and he didn’t know how to tell you he had already made her pregnant.”

Harry feels like the breath has been vacuumed out of his lungs because there it is. It takes his nine year old son to say what every adult in his life refuses to acknowledge. Louis, his husband, the father of his son, the man he loved and trusted more than any other person on earth went behind his back and had their surrogate impregnated then lied about it for six months. The same Louis who didn’t give Harry a chance to settle back home after being in the hospital for almost two months before he started pressuring him to have another child.

Even when Harry told Louis it was too soon after the crash he still wouldn’t let up. Even after Harry admitted that Karen almost miscarrying Cameron still scared him so much that he would’ve have been happy raising their son as an only child Louis still pressured him.

He picked fights. He begged. Anything to get his way, but for once Harry was adamant. He wasn’t ready and he didn’t think it would be fair to any child they might have if he gave in just because Louis was pressuring him.

Harry just didn’t know the surrogate was already pregnant. The betrayal is what's driven his anger for the last nine months, but somehow Louis’ actions don’t sound as sinister coming from Cameron.

The one thing Harry can’t figure out is how Cam knows so much. He never told him the details and as far as he knows Louis didn’t either. Never arguing or fighting in front of their son is one of the few things they've done right. They've also never tried to make Cameron choose sides, and it’s not likely that Louis would start now.

“How do you know about any of that?” Harry asks, stressing that he wants the truth when Cameron buries his face against his chest.

“I overheard Daddy talking to Nanny Anne when she brought me home right after you and daddy broke up,” Cameron confesses guiltily.

There's no need for Harry to search his memory to know exactly what Cam’s referring to. He thought he’d be ready to talk to Louis that first weekend, but in the end he had his mum drop Cameron off on the night before he had to return to school. It’s not surprising she’d go in and talk to Louis, but she never mentioned it to him. To be fair Harry never asked either.

“You know eavesdropping’s not okay don’t you?”

It’s really not a question, but Cameron should’ve known better than to listen in on a conversation between two adults.

“I didn’t mean to, but daddy was crying really hard. I thought he was sad about you and I just wanted to give him a hug. I really didn’t mean to listen in,” Cameron sounds near tears and Harry feels awful. First he upset Louis, now he’s upset his son. What else is he going to muck up tonight?

“I’m sorry, buddy. Of course you didn’t and it’s a good thing you did, wanting to take care of daddy.”

“Nanny Anne was already holding him. She told him everything would work out. She said she couldn’t wait to meet her granddaughter, but that made daddy cry harder and he kept saying he was sorry.”

“That was a very hard time for everybody,” Harry says softly, tears stinging his eyes. He's more affected by the image than he wants to be.

“I hated her too,” Cameron sounds like he’s spilling his most shameful secret.

“You hated who?” Harry asks, shocked that his son ever associated himself with an emotion that strong.

“Isabel. I hated her just like you for breaking you and daddy up, but when I told daddy he said I shouldn’t blame her because he was the one who made you leave. He said everything was his fault and if I gave Isabel a chance I would love her just as much as he did. He said when I held her for the first time I’d want to be the best big brother in the world to her. He was right and maybe if you hold her just once you won’t hate her anymore. Maybe you'll love her like me.”

Harry moans out in actual pain. “Oh Cam, I could never hate Isabel. She’s a part of daddy and she’s your sister.”

“But you never talk about her and you’ve never tried to meet her,” Cameron states the truth, making Harry feel worse.

“When daddy didn’t tell me he was having her it hurt me really bad because that’s not how being married works. When I found out it made me feel like he didn’t need me. Maybe even a little like he didn’t love me and I left because I couldn’t trust him anymore. Not because of Isabel. I never hated or blamed her. I hope you believe me.”

It’s a cleaned up version of events, but right now it’s all Harry feels comfortable admitting.

“Do you love her?” Cameron persists, and for what seems like the hundredth time since he walked into Niall’s room Harry feels like the wind has been knocked out of his sails.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks, and he’s humbled when Cameron looks at him with nothing but trust in his green eyes. “Nanny Anne, Auntie Gem, and your Grandpa Niall send me pictures of your sister all the time. They keep me up to date on everything she does, and although I never tell them thank you I live for the updates. I look at the pictures over and over again every single day. She’s wonderful and perfect just like you. How could I not love her?”

Harry’s honesty leaves him more shaken than he already was. It’s more than he’s said about Isabel since the day he walked out on Louis.

“Okay,” Cameron finally sounding satisfied, and while Harry’s grateful for the reprieve he’s torn up knowing his son’s been carrying such a heavy burden around.

“Why didn’t you talk to me about this before now?”

“I didn’t want you to get madder at daddy,” Cameron confesses quietly while he fiddles with Harry’s shirt.

“Did he tell you to not to tell me?” Harry desperately needs an excuse to blame Louis for this too. It's the only way he'll be able to hold onto the anger and he needs to hold onto the anger. He doesn't know how to exist without it.

“No, you just get this angry look on your face whenever I talk about him and I didn’t want to make it worse. I try not to mention daddy at all around you, but sometimes I slip up.”

“I didn’t realize,” Harry responds, immediately disgusted with himself. He tried his best to keep Cameron out of the middle of his and Louis’ problems, but he still put him there with his facial expressions of all things. “I’m really sorry, buddy. I'll try to do better I promise.”

“It’s okay. You’re home now and everything will be good again,” Cameron vows with certainty, his turn to hug Harry tighter.

“How are you so sure?” Harry teases, but he knows he has to find a way to get through to his nine year old that he and Louis may not ever be able to fix their broken marriage.

“Because I’ve been praying for it, and just in case he may be real I told Santa that’s all I wanted for Christmas,” Cameron responds with so much conviction Harry almost wishes that’s all it took.

“If only it were that easy,” he sighs, and he's about to go into a more detailed explanation when Cameron’s phone rings.

“It’s Sam,” Cam says excitedly when he looks at the screen. “It’s Sam,” he speaks more slowly and emphatically when Harry doesn’t move.

“Oh,” Harry catches the hint. “Don’t stay on too long, okay,” he adds after kissing his son’s head and getting up from the bed. “See you in the morning, buddy.”

"Goodnight, dad,” Cameron says before answering the phone. “Hey, Sam, what are you up to?”

Harry opens the door, smiling. “Good lad. Never let them see you sweat,” he whispers, but Cameron’s too busy telling Sam about his surprise visitor to hear him.

∞∞∞

Harry walked out on Louis almost nine months ago to the day, and except for Cameron he left behind everything he believed was his life up until then. Now he’s sitting in the bedroom next to his son’s trying to locate the anger that’s been the sole justification for leaving and staying gone. Because without it there’s no excuse for what he’s done to his family.

Even before Cameron voiced it out loud Harry knew the separation was hard on Louis. He would've been an idiot not to know it, but he never considered things from a different angle other than his. He was so used to Louis taking care of everything and everyone. He thought because of his troubled childhood, that Louis just needed to be needed. Knowing now that maybe he could have done things differently isn’t something Harry thought he’d be faced with when he got the phone call from yesterday.

At this point do the misgivings even matter now that Louis has taken the step to have divorce papers drawn up? The hypocrisy of him claiming irreconcilable differences as the primary cause for the dissolution of their marriage was almost laughable. Him only asking for the house and agreeing to pay Harry half the value of it only added to the nightmarish joke. The real kicker had been the stipulation that it was up to Harry to decide whatever financial support he wanted to offer Cameron.

Louis trying to be the bigger person when everything was his fault really should’ve been hilarious, but by the time Harry finished reading the five short pages he was in tears because he never imagined anything other than a lifetime with his husband.

“Damn it,” Harry's frustration resonates in the small bedroom. Maybe too much has happened for them to get the lifetime he dreamed of, but they do get to be connected for years to come because of Cameron.

Talking to each other would be a good place to start forging a new path for them as friends. Not the talking they’ve been doing for the past nine months, but really communicating. They need to learn how to be comfortable with each other again. Not the façade of politeness Cameron’s already picked up on.

“Tonight’s as good a time as any,” Harry mumbles under his breath, and once the decision's made it only takes a few more minutes to work up the courage to get up and head out into the hallway. It’s familiar territory, and he steps up to door of the bedroom he used to share with Louis in seconds.

Harry’s so inside his head he doesn’t realize he knocked until he hears Louis tell him to come in, and in what seems like a really long time, Harry has the urge to laugh out loud at the sight greeting him when he opens the door.

Louis is on his knees beside the bed with gift wrap, ribbons, and bows scattered everywhere. The one gift it looks like he’s managed to wrap looks awful and that’s a compliment. “Having a little trouble,” Harry closes the door behind him.

“This was waiting by the door when we got home,” Louis gestures at the organized pile of merchandise. “Thankfully I did most of my shopping before Niall got sick, but those gifts were wrapped at the mall. Can’t do that with the things I ordered online, and frankly I’m shit at this,” he sounds overwhelmed.

Harry realizes it’s not the humourous situation he thought it was. “Sorry you’ve been having it so rough.”

“I didn’t think things through with Cam tonight. It never occurred to me that he’d think you were staying. I guess it should have,” Louis’ voice is full of remorse and Harry feels the strong need to ease his worries.

He's always had a protective streak when it comes to Louis. It looks like some things don't change.

"When I left him he was chatting away with Sam on the phone. He's fine.”

“Do you think so?” Louis looks up, concern clouding his eyes. “He holds so much in, and when you least expect it he talks. Most of the time I’m not prepared for what comes out.”

“Me too.”

Harry understands exactly what Louis is talking about having just lived through the experience. At some point in the future they'll have to discuss the things Cameron told him, but right now he’s more focused on how tired Louis looks. “Have you showered?”

“Probably catch a quick one in the morning before I leave. I need to finish this up,” Louis turns back to the pile of gifts with a deep sigh. “It’s not like I’ll sleep anyway,” he adds under his breath.

Harry thinks he wasn’t meant to hear the last part, but he makes the quick decision to be needed anyway. “You go shower and I’ll wrap the gifts for you.”

“You don’t have to do that, I’ll manage,” Louis rejects the offer.

“I really want to. Will you let me help?” Harry almost adds _for once_ , but he stops just short of saying the words out loud.

“There’re several gifts here for Isa,” Louis says cautiously, watching Harry intently.

“Doesn’t change my offer,” Harry maintains eye contact without wavering, but it’s not easy.

“I guess I’m headed for the showers then,” Louis gives in, sounding relieved as he gets up from the floor. He walks directly to the huge walk-in closet, and he comes right back out with a pair of pajama bottoms and a shirt. “Have at it,” he adds on his way to the adjoining bathroom, but he stops to looks back at Harry after he opens the door. “I have everything labeled so there shouldn’t be any confusion.”

“I’ll take them down and put them under the tree when I finish,” Harry offers, not as upset as he would’ve been a few days ago at the thought of spending Christmas with his estranged husband. A small part of him may even be looking forward to it, but he regrets the offer to take the gifts down when Louis’ face falls.

“As soon as I get around to putting one up you’re more than welcome to,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh before going on into the bathroom.

As soon as the door shuts Harry sinks down on the bed. He noticed the lack of decorations when he first walked in the house, but he didn’t make the connections until now. He was the one who did all of the decorating in the past. Louis would be hard pressed to even know where the decorations are stored. Not to mention how busy he’s been.

“What fucking next?” Harry berates himself.

Instead of wrapping the gifts like he promised Harry takes the opportunity to wallow in regret, but the sound of running water jerks him out of self-pity mode and spurs him into action. He starts by repapering the one gift Louis managed to get gift paper around. It’s a pair of the latest wireless controllers to go with Cameron’s gaming system and it takes about three minutes to redo Louis’ pitiful attempt.

That done Harry methodically wraps a new pair of trainers for their son and a jumper for his stepdad. By the time the shower stops he’s also wrapped an adorable necklace and earring set for Samantha, and he’s putting a green bow on the box containing a silk scarf for Arithea when Louis walks out of the bathroom.

“I can’t believe you got all of this done so fast,” Louis marvels, walking over to the bed to touch the ribbon on Arithea’s expertly wrapped gift. “I was always amazed at how easy you made it look.”

Harry's immediately engulfed with the warmth emanating from Louis' freshly showered body and his scent. There are no words to describe how much he's missed Louis' own unique scent and he takes his fill, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. When he exhales Harry fixes his face in what he hopes is some semblance of a smile, but it feels stiff and unnatural as he looks up at his soon to be ex.

“I still have a few more to wrap if you want to say goodnight to Cameron or grab a cup of tea,” Harry has no way of knowing if Louis has already said goodnight to their son, but he prays silently that he won't have to wrap the last few gifts in his husband's presence.

“I think I’ll do both,” Louis says quietly. “Thanks again for this.”

“I’m meeting Gems sometime tomorrow to pick up Cam’s and your dad's gifts," Harry has a special gift for Isabel too, but fear keeps him from speaking that fact out loud. "If you want I can take the gifts you have for mom and Robin with me,” he offers as another attempt at conciliation.

p>Thanks to Gemma’s offer to meet Harry halfway he won’t have to drive the three plus hours to Holmes Chapel and then make the return trip. Probably the fact that Anne wants to send her gifts has something to do with the offer, but Harry’s not complaining.

“That would be great, Harry,” Louis accepts before leaving Harry alone to stare at the reasons he wanted his husband out of the bedroom.

The last gifts to be wrapped are Isabel’s, and Harry’s heartbeat is racing when he picks up the pink teddy bear that's almost the size of baby Koala. He reverently runs his hands over the plush animal before holding it close to his body, tears burning his eyes. It doesn’t make any sense for him to be so affected by a gift that takes two seconds to wrap since it came with its own bag and ribbon.

Harry refuses to give in to the wave of unexpected emotion. He quickly moves to the next gift, placing an unbelievably small faux fur coat in a box. He sits the matching hat and scarf in another gift box before tying red ribbons around both. He’s just finishing up when Louis comes back in carrying two mugs and the aroma from the steam hits Harry’s nose even before Louis comes near him.

“I had to threaten to take Cam’s phone before he ended the call, but that’s nothing new,” Louis stands patiently while Harry finishes clearing the remaining wrap and other materials from the bed. All of the gifts are neatly stacked at the foot of the bed waiting to be placed under a tree that’s yet to be put up and the room looks nothing like it did when Harry first walked in.

“I believe he might have a crush on his best friend,” Harry accepts the cup Louis extends to him. He tries not to notice how his husband takes extra care not to touch him.

“You think?” Louis says dryly as he walks over to bed to sit down. “At least it seems mutual. Not sure if I’m ready to deal with our son’s first heartbreak.”

“Who knows, maybe he’ll never have to experience it,” Harry says before he takes a cautious sip of the aromatic tea. “This is really good,” he takes another quick sip.

“Credit goes to Arithea. It’s a secret blend passed down from her great great grandmother,” Louis blows then takes a sip from his cup before continuing. “She won’t share the recipe, but she keeps me supplied. Which is a good thing because I think I’m addicted.”

“She seems really dedicated to Niall,” Harry pettily thinks she’s just as dedicated to Louis as he drinks from the cup again.

“I think it’s more a case of her being dedicated to her job. Her husband’s been dead for a little over twenty years and their only son died serving Afghanistan seven years ago. Arithea was an only child, and except for a few cousins she rarely communicates with she’s alone. Although there are times I think she sees Niall as a substitute family member.”

Harry's tired of standing so he moves to sit on the small settee across from the bed. “And you too, maybe?” he holds up the cup to prove his point.

“She’s been amazing. Grateful doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about Arithea,” Louis meets his eyes unflinchingly.

“And your new friends, the doctors?” Harry asks, almost successfully keeping the jealousy out of his tone.

“It was an easy fit,” Louis responds. “The friendship was kind of instant,” he tacks on with a hint of steel in his voice.

“You never showed interest in having friends before,” Harry hates how petty he sounds, but he feels petty. And lost and angry.

“Not that much has changed, Harry. I don't need Liam and Zayn to be my friends. I want them to be," Louis explains in a more patient tone. "Before you left you and Cam were really all I needed. I had Niall, and Bella too before she died. Having close friends never bothered me, but that was before. Now I’m trying to be a better person for my children. I don’t want them to ever think healthy relationships only exist within the family. Thankfully, you’ve influenced Cam in that area. He has a ton of friends although you wouldn’t know it right now.”

It’s a commendable thing to do for Cameron and Isabel. Knowing Louis like Harry knows him, it's more than commendable. Still, Harry’s stunned and a little angered by the first part of the confession. “Funny that I never felt like you needed me for anything,” he says, unable to hold it in, but he instantly regrets the slip. “I didn’t mean to say that, and on that note I think I’ll turn in.”

Louis' eyes are troubled, but he doesn’t argue with Harry when he stands up and walks toward the door. “Thanks again for wrapping the gifts,” he says instead, but the quiet acceptance in his voice stops Harry cold.

“Why didn’t you call me, Louis? I understand why you’d keep from Cam how bad off Niall was, but I would’ve been here in a flash if you had told my mum. You know that,” he adds, sounding accusing and hurt. “I would’ve never forgiven you if Niall had died without me here.”

“Seems to be a thing with you,” Louis mutters.

Harry sees red and he spins away from the door.

Louis is pulling the duvet down and his back is still turned when Harry sits the cup on the nightstand beside the bed. “Don’t you dare bring us into this,” he seethes, grabbing his unsuspecting husband by the arm to turn him around. “Do you have a clue how hard it was for me to find out how sick your dad really was?”

“The image of walking in the emergency department to find Niall struggling so hard for breath he was turning blue is etched into my brain. It’s something I won’t forget anytime soon. It’s all I see when I close my eyes. If by some chance I happen to fall asleep nightmares wake me up. I was asleep when I got the call about your crash and I can’t go through that horror again, so I wait to sleep when I’m with my dad. My dad, Harry!” Louis sounds angry, but his eyes are full of the fear he’s been dealing with. "Does that sound like I have a clue?"

“Louis,” Harry sighs, blazingly aware that he keeps fucking up.

“Of course, I called you. You were the first person I thought of. The day Niall went in I phoned you twice, but your phone went to voicemail both times.”

“Shit, I'm sorry,” Harry feels like all kinds of idiots. He was spending a couple of days in Calabasas with a friend when his phone went missing. _Fuck!_

“It’s fine,” Louis sighs.

“No, it’s not. My phone was lost or stolen. I don't know which and I only got the new one yesterday,” Harry terminated the service the next morning, but he had to wait for the new phone to arrive. He used his friend’s phone to check in with Cameron. “I honestly forgot, but Cam had a number you could’ve reached me at. My mum did too.”

“Niall was already improving when I found that out and I didn’t think it was necessary anymore,” Louis pulls his arm out of Harry's grasp to go back to pulling the duvet down. “I know you love him and I know how much it bothered you not to be here when Bella died. I’d never keep you away from him. That’s not who I am.”

“No, you’ll just hide that you’re having a baby from me. Forgive me if I’m a little skeptical,” Harry’s angry again. The continuous hypocrisy is mind boggling.

“Until you’re willing to listen to an explanation you have no right to say that to me. Not anymore. Not after nine months,” Louis responds, not moving. Just standing with a rigid posture and bent head. “I’d like you to leave now. Please.”

“Fuck,” Harry mutters. He knows Louis. They were together for sixteen years. More than long enough for him to tell by the lowered register of his voice that he’s fighting tears.

“I’m not leaving,” Harry twists Louis around for the second time, surprised to see a lone tear already on his face.

The line between need and wanting to be needed is blurred when Harry crashes their mouths together.

It's a frantic kiss and Harry wonders if he should feel something more earth shattering since it’s the first time he’s kissed his husband in almost a year, but it just feels like it did when he came after being on tour for months. Like he just wants more and like he’ll die if he doesn’t get it.

Louis doesn’t struggle against the onslaught. He opens his mouth to give Harry access, but that’s where his participation ends. He stands with his hands by his side while he allows Harry to rule his mouth, but the indifferent response infuriates Harry. He pushes Louis down on the bed, quickly falling on top of him to continue his attack on the still slack lips.

There’s nothing gentle in the way Harry invades Louis’ mouth for the second time. He can’t be gentle. He tried so hard not to miss this aspect of their relationship and he draws on the ten percent of the times he was successful to bury the emotions trying to surface now.

Louis seems to snap out of whatever was holding him back, and he lifts his legs to wrap them around Harry’s waist at the same time he becomes an active party to the kiss. Just as eager and bruising as he tangles their tongues.

Harry’s so blindsided by the change it takes him awhile to realize that Louis is struggling underneath him.

“We can’t do this. It's wrong,” Louis pants when Harry finally lifts up.

“It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just sex.”

Louis’ expression transitions from vulnerable to a blank mask, but before Harry has a chance to regret his words Louis agrees with him. “Okay,” he mutters before lifting his head to initiate another hard kiss.

It's a waste of time to think about what they’re doing so Harry pushes the uncomfortable thoughts out of his head as he returns the rough kiss with equal abandon. Sucking on Louis’ tongue almost with painful force. He has to move fast because if he lingers on any one part of Louis’ body too long because one or both of them might read too much into it. He ends the rough kiss to move down Louis' body, ignoring the small smiley face tattoo on his thigh.

Harry would have paid loving homage to it in the past. Tonight he sinks to the floor on his knees before dragging Louis’ bottoms completely off.

The only sound Louis makes when Harry goes down on him is a quiet hiss. When Cameron got older they learned to keep their noises to a minimum and the muted sounds of need Louis made used to drive Harry crazier than their louder unfiltered ones. Tonight Louis is totally silent, the slight movements of his hips and his rapidly rising erection are the only indications he’s responding, but Harry’s not drawing Louis deeper into his mouth for the sounds. Right now, he just wants him hard and ready.

He makes quick work of running his tongue up and down the underside of Louis' cock, coming back up to lap around the engorged head before swallowing him back down. He bobs his head in a fast staccato rhythm and when he tastes the first drops of Louis’ pre come on his tongue Harry lifts his head because he’s achieved his goal.

Guessing the lube and condoms are in the same place, Harry stands up to open the top drawer on the nightstand. Being married and committed they rarely used condoms before they separated, but that was nine months ago. Harry can speak for himself and say it never crossed his mind to have sex with anybody else. He’s pretty sure the same holds true for Louis despite the scare with Niall's doctor, but rather than ask the telling question Harry grabs a condom.

He has a moment’s hesitation when he turns back to the bed just in time to see Louis slide backwards then lift his legs while looking up at the ceiling. There’s something so defenseless in the movement it gives Harry the brief moment of doubt. But Louis is still hard and leaking so Harry releases the string on his pajama bottoms to let them fall to the floor.

He rips the condom open with his teeth before rolling it on his own painfully hard length and after he squeezes a generous amount of lube onto his fingers he crawls in between with Louis’ legs.

Without stalling Harry begins circling a finger at Louis’ entrance, giving him time to prepare before pushing it in. Again the only sound Louis makes is a sharp intake of breath.

There’s no intimacy in the way Harry opens Louis up. It’s mechanical and all about a means to an end. He moves maybe faster than he should, but when Louis is stretched enough to accept three fingers, Harry leans over him, spreading his fingers wider. He runs his thumb along the thick tendon separating the sac below Louis’ hardened flesh, and he slides his fingers all the way out to cup him, when Louis shivers from the touch.

Louis has always been sensitive there, and Harry squeezes again before grabbing his thighs to push them wider apart.

Louis’ eyes are closed now, and when Harry slams into him, he keeps them closed. He only winces before he wraps his legs around Harry’s waist again, and he doesn’t waste time in returning rough move for rough move. Until now, Harry’s managed to hold back the sounds stuck in his throat, but Louis’ harsh thrusting sends him spiraling, and the pained noises escape on their own.

Louis twists his head like he can’t bear to look at his husband, but Harry feels the same. So he buries his head in Louis’ shoulder, turning his face away to resist the overwhelming temptation to taste the skin above his pulse. He gives all his concentration to moving in and out of Louis at a thunderous pace and the ending is just as tempestuous as the beginning. It’s been nine months since they made love and the orgasm catches Harry by surprise, throwing his body into one violent spasm after another. Somewhere in the red haze of completion he hears Louis gasp before his body tenses up and another wave of pleasure rolls over Harry when he feels the hot spurts between their bodies.

For several minutes Harry rests on top of Louis, willing his breathing to return to normal, but when sanity and the ability to move returns he lifts up with more care than he showed the entire time they were having sex. He drops down on the bed beside Louis, filled with so much remorse he has to blink away tears.

What they just did was fast and meaningless. It was just sex and as impersonal as two strangers hooking up. Just like Harry intended. He just didn’t bargain on the aftermath.

Harry watches through hooded eyes when Louis shifts on the bed before he stands up. He’s still watching when Louis bends to grab his bottoms from the floor, then walking on wobbly legs to the bathroom without saying a word.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Harry whispers when he stands up to remove the condom. He drops the latex in the bin by the bed before bending to grab his pajamas from around his ankles. He’s just pulling them over his hips when Louis walks back into the room. He startles like he wasn’t expecting Harry to still be there. He looks close to shattering.

“Louis,” Harry starts.

_What the fuck did he just do?_

“Get out,” Louis walks past him to get into bed. He pulls the duvet up before turning over on his side with his back turned, effectively ending any attempt at conversation.

Harry's not ready to give up. He goes into the bathroom instead of leaving. He just needs time to think of the right words to say because as much as he’s wanted to make Louis suffer he never wanted to break him. Harry never wanted to see Louis look so haunted and destroyed, and tonight it was even worse than he looked at the hospital right after Harry came out of the coma.

"Damn it!"

Harry can try to excuse what happened by pointing out that Louis didn’t stop him, but one look at him when he came out the bathroom erased that argument. It wasn’t about want or need for Louis. It was about penance. Louis gave in because he thought he was being punished, and as ashamed as Harry feels now Louis was right.

Harry was trying to punish him, but not for his lies. Harry wanted Louis to pay for being alright without him when he hasn’t been alright since the day he walked out. He wanted to hurt Louis for surviving and for building a whole new life when it feels like his entire world fell apart.

“Fuck,” Harry walks over to the basin to wash up, and when he’s done cleaning away the dried come from his stomach and chest he stops to look at the bleak face staring back at him in the mirror. For an almost thirty two year old he’s not so bad looking. Maybe a few added laugh lines, certainly not the good looking boy Louis fell in love with, but still not bad.

When they met Harry was the up and coming new kid on the circuit who got more comments on his curly hair and green eyes than his talent. Louis was the rising star who had just started to scare the old pros with his skill and toughness. He had the reputation of being a loner and he made it clear he didn’t have time for a sixteen year old flirt who thought sex was a third necessity to live after air and water.

Harry’s the first to admit he wasn’t a saint. He fucked his way through fourteen and fifteen. And part of sixteen, but it was different with Louis. He fell in love the second he looked into the unfriendly blue eyes. He didn’t want anybody else after that first meeting and in almost seventeen years nothing’s changed. He loves Louis with a love that defies reason. Probably always will, but as cliché as they saying is, sometimes love’s not enough. It’s been a hard lesson to learn it didn’t give him the right to treat Louis like a one night stand.

Louis deserved better than that and after one last reassuring look in the mirror Harry leaves the bathroom more determined to apologize, but when he steps near the bed he sees Louis is fast asleep. It looks like he thought Harry left the room because his front is facing Harry. He’s still on his side, but now he’s folded in on himself.

Harry lifts his hand to his chest when the gold band on Louis finger catches his eye. He panics until he remembers taking the necklace off because he didn’t want Louis to know he kept his wedding band close to his heart. When he saw the ring on Louis’ finger at the hospital he spitefully hoped it would hurt his husband when he realized he didn’t have his on. So many times today Harry didn’t think he could sink any lower, but looking at Louis now he realizes how wrong he was. 

It doesn’t hit him that Louis is asleep until he’s sitting in the settee with his elbows braced on his thighs. Louis is so asleep the noises Harry made while he moved around the room didn’t disturb him. Maybe the nightmares won't wake him up tonight, If that’s the case then something good resulted from the sex after all.

Harry only wishes it would have the same effect on him, but jetlag has him wide awake. So he does the next best thing. He watches Louis sleep until he yawns and his eyes close.

As soon as Harry recovers he watches Louis some more.

∞∞∞

“These are so good, dad,” Cameron compliments Harry’s pancake effort for the umpteenth time, chewing and talking simultaneously.

Harry watches fondly as his son devours his third pancake and he wonders if it’s appropriate to forcefully separate a child from their favourite pair of Spiderman pajamas. From the looks of things they’re already off by a couple of years, but it doesn’t seem to bother Cameron at all that the sleeves of his red and blue nighties are almost at his elbows and the cuffed bottoms rest about three inches above his ankles and bare feet.

“I believe you,” Harry responds after taking a drink of his tea, and before moving his shoulders to work some of the tension out. Feels like the past few days and the busy morning is beginning to catch up with him.

Last night when he finally decided go to the guest room the gifts caught his eye. Then instead of going to bed like he intended Harry slipped on his boots and left the house before he could talk himself out of it. He knew the tree vendor they used every year was open twenty four hours so it was only a matter of driving the twenty minutes it took to get there. It was another story when he was faced with picking a tree.

Louis was always in and out. He was too impatient to walk up and down the aisles of trees, but not Harry. The tree had to be perfect because otherwise what was the point.

For some reason he refused to examine that sentiment especially rang true this time. The tree had to be perfect, and Harry took more than an hour to pick out the seven foot Spruce. Getting the tree inside the house as quietly as he could and bringing the decorations up from the basement turned out to be the easy part.

Harry was bringing up the last box of ornaments when Cameron stumbled down the stairs and instantly mistook the good deed as a birthday surprise for Louis.

The fact that it was Louis’ birthday had been in the back of Harry’s mind the entire time. He just didn’t plan on acknowledging it, but confessing he was only decorating because Louis didn’t have time to would’ve ruined the morning for Cameron. There’s no way Harry would’ve done that, and he gave in again when Cameron asked if they could make Louis breakfast and serve him in bed.

Harry remembered that he promised he’d try to be nicer to Louis so he agreed to cooking breakfast, but he had the presence of mind to say it would be an even better gift if they let Louis sleep in since he needed the extra rest.

Harry was relieved when Cameron eagerly agreed with him, but now he’s rethinking the suggestion because Louis hasn’t made an appearance yet. Harry’s getting really close to sending Cameron up to see if he’s awake.

“One more?” Cameron asks before he finishes the pancake on his plate.

Harry doesn’t even consider denying him. The hard work they put in this morning justifies both their appetites. Harry’s eaten four of the fluffy concoctions himself.

He’s sliding the last pancake onto the platter when Louis finally walks into the kitchen looking stressed and wearing an almost identical outfit to the one he had on yesterday. Only today his hair's not restricted by a headband.

“Why’d you let me sleep so late?” Louis addresses Harry with heavy accusation in his eyes.

“Because Cam and I have decided to give you a break today,” Harry answers unapologetically. “We’re sitting with Niall this morning and you get the day to do whatever you’d like. At least half of it because I know you can’t be convinced to stay away from the hospital. I’ve already talked with Arithea, and your dad had a really good night. They’ve taken him off the oxygen and it looks like he may be going home in a couple of days.”

“You’re right, I won’t stay away and I don’t think Cameron should see Niall just yet,” Louis responds starchily.

“I haven’t seen granddad in more than a week and I miss him,” Cameron says despondently, pushing his plate away. “Please can I go with dad? I won’t be a bother, I promise.”

Louis looks torn, but concession is all over his face even before he gives in. “Okay, but you have to tell your dad if you want to leave at any time.”

Harry can tell Louis is far from thrilled, but Cameron is blissfully unaware of it and his face lights up. “Thanks, daddy. Now you can go back to sleep or you can spend the day with Isa, but first sit down because we have a surprise for you.”

“What surprise?” Louis sounds baffled and a little alarmed, but he slides onto the cushioned bench anyway.

Cameron looks over at Harry before turning back to Louis. “Close your eyes.”

“Why?” Louis asks, sounding intrigued now.

“Daddy,” Cameron says with familiar exasperation.

Louis obeys, covering his eyes with his hands for good measure.

Harry walks over to the table with a plate holding a pancake smeared with peanut butter and strawberry jam, cupping his hand to keep the lone candle lit. He sits the plate in front of Louis before stepping back.

“You can look now,” Cameron says then yells, “Happy Birthday!”

The look of shock on Louis’ face is real as he brings his hands back up to cover his mouth.

“Happy birthday, Louis,” Harry joins in, noticeably more hushed than his son.

“Can’t believe I forgot my birthday. I was so panicked when I woke up late,” Louis holds his arms out for Cameron. “Thanks, bud,” he says before kissing Cam wet and loud on the cheek.

“Yuck,” Cameron moves back to do a very dramatic job of wiping his face off. “Blow out your candle.”

Harry stands against the sink imagining how they must look with Louis and Cameron in their own world and him standing several feet away. The image sums up exactly how he feels. Like he’s a part of what’s going on, but left out at the same time.

“Thanks,” Louis finally looks at Harry, but only long enough to say the one word.

“It was all Cam’s idea,” Harry ignores the tension to give the credit to Cameron. “Especially the peanut butter and strawberry jam,” he stresses with a raised eyebrow. He was stunned when his son ignored the syrup he usually drenches his pancakes in.

“Forgot to buy syrup once and we’ve never looked back. You should try it,” Louis suggests before winking at their son.

On his best days Harry only hates the nutty paste. “I’ll stick to syrup, thanks,” he smiles, breathing a little easier. The brief exchange wasn't so bad.

“Eat up because we have one more surprise,” Cameron slips out of his dad’s arms to return to his seat.

“Another one? Can’t possibly top this,” Louis responds, and the compliment causes Cameron to beam with pride.

“I thought you might want tea, but I can get you a glass of milk if you prefer,” Harry sits a steaming cup of the hot liquid beside Louis’ plate.

“Tea’s good,” Louis answers around a mouthful of pancakes. “Pancakes are good too,” he adds, sounding sincere but guarded. “Another recipe I can’t seem to master.”

“They can be difficult,” Harry understands the uneasiness because he hasn’t quite found his footing around Louis again. Last night didn’t exactly help, but Cameron looking at him and slyly nodding towards the entrance prevents Harry from sinking further into his melancholy thoughts. “Uhm, so I have to use the loo.”

“Okay,” Cameron responds a little too excitedly, showing that he needs acting lessons. Although he’s allowed to be excited because he knows the real reason behind Harry’s quick exit. It’s his job to keep Louis occupied.

Harry sees the speculation in Louis’ eyes, but instead of saying anything he takes another enthusiastic bite of pancake.

Harry gives Louis a silent cheer for devouring his breakfast, but on his way up to get the gifts he wrapped last night he has to squash the ache that comes from knowing he's partially responsible for Louis' weight loss.

Harry pushes the troubling thoughts aside to focus on the task at hand, and twenty odd minutes later he's out of breath and a little sweaty. Running up and down the stairs turned out to be quite the workout and he’s only marginally recovered when he walks back into the kitchen to hear Louis refusing the pancake Cameron’s trying to force onto his plate.

“I’ve already eaten too much, love. I’m stuffed,” Louis complains, and his eyes widen in astonishment when Cameron instantly stops arguing with him.

“You have to come with us, but you have to keep your eyes closed,” their nine year old tugs on Louis’ hand to get him to stand.

“Again?” Louis asks with mock frustration.

“I’ll guide you, and dad will be right behind us.”

“That means I have to trust you to keep me from bumping into walls. Somehow I don’t think this will end well,” Louis jokes, but he allows Cameron to pull him.

“We don’t have to go far. Just listen to me, and no peeking,” Cameron warns at the same time Harry puts his hand on Louis’ lower back.

The heat radiating through the top makes Harry’s palm tingle and he resists the urge to slide his hand under Louis’ tee. To compensate he concentrates on bringing up the rear as Cameron guides Louis out of the kitchen.

“To your right,” Cameron instructs and Louis obeys, holding his left hand out like he’s trying to feel for potential obstacles.

Cameron takes his role as a guide seriously and in no time they’re standing under the same archway Harry stood under nine months ago listening to Louis and Karen break his heart.

“You can stop, but keep your eyes closed,” Cameron lets go of Louis’ hand, and he looks at Harry with a big grin on his face. “Dad, you stand right here,” he adds, pulling Harry to stand beside Louis instead of behind him.

Harry drops his hand from Louis’ back so they’re next to each other, but not touching. He’s a little puzzled by their son’s instructions since he’s in on the surprise, but he keeps quiet.

“You can look now, daddy,” Cameron watches in anticipation along with Harry watch in anticipation while Louis opens his eyes. His loud gasp doesn’t disappoint.

“I know I’ve been saying it a lot the past twenty four hours, but thank you again,” Louis says softly, gazing up at Harry before turning back to look at the room. “When did you even have time to do all of this?”

“You know what jetlag’s like,” Harry tells him, feeling about as proud as their son looks. No matter what he tried to tell himself, he really wanted Louis to like it.

“You helped your dad?” Louis asks Cameron who’s nestled against his side. Cameron nods after Louis pulls him in closer. “You did a great job, buddy.”

It took them almost two hours, but the room was transformed when Harry and Cameron finished. The tree could have been decorated by a professional with the giant red and gold ornaments. Harry threaded clear lights through the branches while Cameron placed hooks in the ornaments. Once they finished Cameron started hanging the ornaments on the bottom half of the tree. Harry took the top half, but the gigantic cascading gold bow they use for a tree topper took a stepladder.

They tacked the three stockings they’ve been hanging since Cam’s first Christmas into the garland before hanging it on the mantel over the fireplace. Because they have Cameron, Dad, and Daddy sewn onto them, one with Isa’s name is noticeably missing. So much so that Harry almost didn’t put his up, but when Cameron insisted he gave in.

A musical water globe Bella gave Louis and Harry as a gift is sitting on one end of the mantle. The gold and red flameless candles they use because Cameron accidentally knocked over a candle with real flames four years ago are flickering on the other end. Harry placed an identical set in the middle of the coffee table and a soft throw with a sleigh thrown over the back of the sofa along with other small figurines throughout the room complete the picture. It’s not as large scale as they’ve done in the past, but considering the time constraint at least one room in the house looks like a warm and welcoming holiday scene.

“Thanks, daddy. You really like it?” Cameron’s expression is expectant. 

“I love it,” Louis smile’s down at him, love pouring from his eyes, but it turns to fond confusion when Cameron asks his next question.

“Then will you pick me up so I can give you a proper hug for your birthday?”

“Sure, I will,” Louis bends, somehow managing to lift their too tall son.

Harry heard the hint of deviousness in Cameron’s voice, but comprehension doesn’t dawn until he sees what Cam is hiding behind his back.

Harry forgot about the mistletoe they used to hang above the entrance way. He didn’t notice it in the boxes he brought up from the basement, but apparently Cameron did because right now he’s holding it high over Louis’ head.

“Do you know what this means?” he asks with delight lighting up his eyes as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck to draw him closer.

“Yes, I’m afraid I do,” Louis says solemnly, the initial shock gone from his face.

“What?” Cameron asks smugly, and Harry realizes their son has grown into a very cheeky boy.

“It means that dad and I have to kiss…you!” Louis’ last word cause Cameron to squeal.

Harry's a little surprised too. He was holding his breath thinking Louis was about to say they had to kiss, but he catches on fast. He starts kissing the side of Cameron’s face closest to him.

Cameron’s laughter echoes throughout the large room, but his squirming proves too much. Louis sets him on his feet as gently as he can. Which is hard to do with their son’s effort to free himself. 

“You guys are so weird,” Cameron tells them with a very convincing look of disgust on his face that's only countered by his ginormous smile.

“All parents are weird, don’t you know that? Besides you asked for it,” Louis responds fondly. “If you're going with your dad don’t you think you should get dressed now?”

“I can’t wait to see granddad and then we pick up Jack Jr.,” Cameron walks around them to head for the stairs. “Daddy?” he calls out before stepping on the first stair. “Happy birthday. I love you.”

Harry turned at the same time as Louis. His intention was to go up with Cameron to change out of the sweaty clothes he has on, but he stops because once again he feels like a stranger looking in on a private moment.

“I love you more, and just so you know, this was the best birthday surprise ever,” Louis responds with the soft resonance in his voice only reserved for Cameron. Harry imagines now for Isabel too.

“Ah, dad,” Cameron addresses Harry this time, still beaming with pride. "There's something in your hair."

Harry’s gaze unintentionally falls to Louis while he lifts his hand to retrieve whatever Cameron’s smirking and pointing at. The instant his hand touches the plastic leaves he understands the apprehension in his husband’s blue eyes.

“Do you know what that means?” Cameron asks smugly, repeating his earlier question before sprinting up the stairs.

Harry thinks maybe it’s time for a trim if he can’t feel when something’s been planted in his hair. Although technically mistletoe in the hair isn’t mistletoe over the head, but the tradition still holds maybe. Only if Louis is willing.

Without a doubt Harry’s willing. “He’s probably hiding at the top of the stairs watching,” he whispers, heart racing. He ignores the fact that if Cameron were at the top of the stairs he wouldn't be able to see his parents. He wouldn't even be able to see his parents even if he were on the bottom stair.

They seem to be moot facts with Louis too. “So just to be clear we’re doing this for Cameron?” he asks, sounding like an equal conspirator. The small smile tugging at his lips almost ease the butterflies in Harry’s stomach.

“Yeah,” Harry lets the mistletoe drop to the floor so he can bring his hands up to cup Louis’ face, and before he can lose his nerves he lowers his head. He only intends to give Louis a brief peck, but his lips are slightly parted. Harry's top lip slides in between the small gap and incapable of stopping he sucks Louis’ bottom lip further into his mouth, tracing it with his tongue before sliding into the moist heat inside.

The kiss is sweet and slow, and Harry thinks peanut butter and strawberry jam never tasted so good. He might have to seriously reconsider his dislike of thick goo, but not right now. The battle for control of the gentle and restrained kiss is more important, but before either one of them can claim victory Louis steps back abruptly, leaving Harry no choice but to let his hands drop.

“That should do it,” Louis says with his chest heaving. “For Cam remember,” he adds when Harry just stares at him.

“Yeah, for Cam,” Harry agrees when the stupor clears. “Who’s probably still peeping about somewhere,” he tries for normalcy, torn between wanting much more than the kiss and asking Louis what he has against touching him.

He kissed Harry back, just like he did last night, but again he didn’t touch him.

“He may be at that,” Louis responds before walking over to stand in front of the tree. When he looks over his shoulder with appreciation in his eyes, Harry forgets how to breathe. Even with the marked gauntness around his cheekbones and the dark circles under his eyes Louis is still so striking Harry wishes he had a camera to capture the image forever.

“I should probably change before we head out,” he says needlessly, but he’s just not ready to be in a room that Louis isn’t in. “What time should we expect you at the hospital?”

“Probably around one unless Cam needs me earlier,” Louis answers, and the atmosphere gets a little cooler the second he remembers his misgivings about letting their son visit Niall.

Apparently done with the conversation, Louis steps over to the mantle to trace a gentle finger over Bella’s then his biological mum's picture. He lifts the globe to give the key a long twist and as the sounds of _Silent Night_ fill the room Harry heads towards the stairs thinking Louis might be justified in believing it’s too soon for Cam to visit Niall, but he’s fooling himself if he thinks their son had anything to do with that kiss.

∞∞∞

It’s just past ten when Harry and Cameron walk into Niall’s hospital room.

Arithea’s nowhere in sight so Harry figures she must have already left for the holidays. He takes an assessing look at the figure on the bed and he's relieved to see Louis’ dad looks significantly better than he did yesterday.

Niall’s lined face lights when he spots his grandson’s head behind Harry’s back. He holds his arms out and Cameron eagerly climbs on the bed before flinging himself into the waiting embrace. “There’s my lad,” he soothes, but his eyes are a little more watery than they normally are.

“I was really worried about you,” Cameron finally lifts his head.

“How many times did I tell ya over the phone that I was okay? Now you can see it with your own eyes. So no more worrying, do you hear?”

“Okay,” Cameron sighs into the front of his granddad's hospital gown.

Harry’s gaze is fixed on the pair on the bed, but his thoughts refuse to focus on anything except Louis. He knows it’s probably just in his mind, but when he licks his lips he swears he can still taste the peanut butter and strawberry jam. If Harry’s honest, from the time their eyes met across Niall’s hospital bed yesterday most of his thoughts have been about his estranged husband. An equal mixture of worry and want that he wasn’t prepared for or expecting and with so much up in the air between them he has no idea what to do with it.

“Dad? Dad?” The concern in his son’s voice catches Harry’s attention.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Granddad was talking to you, but you were just staring,” Cameron’s looking at him like he has two heads.

“Sorry about that,” Harry notices Cam’s taken his jacket off. He must have really been out of it. “Hey, you,” he adds, looking at Niall.

“Hey, yourself. Must have been some pretty deep thoughts,” Niall says astutely.

“Maybe,” Harry ignores the speculation in the pale blue eyes. “You’re looking a lot better.”

“Seeing this one here always makes me feel better,” Niall musses his grandson’s hair. He must have moved to make room for Cameron while Harry was lost in his thoughts because they’re side by side now.

“How are you really?” Harry asks.

“About twenty times better than yesterday. Pretty sure close to a thousand times better than eight days ago,” Niall trails Harry as he moves to pull a chair up to side of the bed he sat on yesterday. No sooner than he sits down the door opens to reveal a familiar face, but instead of scrubs this time Niall’s doctor has on jeans and a plaid shirt under his lab coat.

“Uncle Li,” Cameron says with jealous inducing enthusiasm.

“Hey, sport. Zayn told me your dad said you’d be here,” Liam greets him just as enthusiastically. “Sam probably wasn’t a happy camper when she woke up to find you not there,” he teases in a manner Harry thought he was incapable of. Which means the barely concealed disdain is probably reserved just for him.

“I texted her and I’m taking dad to meet her later,” Cameron responds, blushing, but beaming.

On the other side of the bed Harry braces himself for the disapproving look sure to come his way, but it never comes. “I’m sure she’s excited about that. You’re all she talked about last night. She’s a big fan of yours now that skateboarding’s become her favourite sport,” Liam addresses him with a smile, tilting his head almost imperceptibly in Cameron’s direction.

“She sounds great. Does she skateboard?” Harry rolls with the change in attitude for Cam’s sake.

“She’s somewhat of a novice, but yeah. She’s quite good actually. Zayn almost has a seizure everytime she goes near a skateboard or your backyard,” Liam continues like yesterday never happened. “By the way, nice set of ramps you have out there. Louis said you designed them.”

To avoid the suffocating feeling of isolation Harry compartmentalizes the doctor’s words, blocking out some because he feels a panicky sensation everytime he hears something that reminds him it only took Louis two hundred and seventy short days to build a new life without him.

“Yeah, I did. We had to take out the tennis court, but it was worth it, and I understand the fear. It took me a while to get used to Cam skateboarding. Louis is still better in that area. I’m guessing your daughter loves going up on the ramp with him,” Harry responds, but he must have said something wrong because Niall and his doctor exchange a worried look.

“Daddy doesn’t ride the wind anymore,” Cameron speaks up, distracted by whatever it is he’s searching for in the backpack he brought with him, but his eyes go wide as soon as he realizes what he said.

“You into the sport as well?” Harry asks Liam, sensing Cam’s panic. Harry refuses to add to it by asking what his son meant.

“Now more than in the past for obvious reasons, but I did follow yours and Louis’ careers. Never thought I’d meet either one of you. Definitely never thought Samantha would be a fan, but of course that all changed about five months ago,” Liam answers, nodding fondly to Cameron again.

Harry smiles with parental sympathy, but he’s mostly just relieved Cam doesn’t look so scared anymore.

“I’m sure the doc here needs to talk to me alone for a minute. You know patient confidentiality and stuff,” Niall interrupts them, sounding a little relieved himself.

Harry thinks he knows why. He understands why Niall wouldn’t want to discuss his condition in front of his grandson, but he’s pretty sure Louis' dad sounds relieved because the skateboarding issue was dropped.

“Come on buddy, let’s give your granddad some privacy. Maybe we can find a snack machine, yeah?” Harry holds his hand out to his son.

“There’s one with snacks and another with pop down the corridor to your right,” Liam informs him after Cameron gets up off of the bed.

“Noted,” Harry responds, and he gives Niall one last reassuring look before guiding his son out of the room. “Do you want anything?” he asks as soon as they shut the door.

“Daddy put crisps and a juice in my backpack,” Cameron declines the offer, and with nothing else to do they stand against the wall outside Niall’s room to wait.

“I’m not sure you can use that in a hospital,” Harry says when he looks down to see Cameron fiddling with his phone.

“I’m only playing games. Uncle Li says that’s fine.”

“He’s a doctor so I guess he should know,” Harry concedes, hoping Cameron didn’t catch the touch of starchiness in his tone. On the chance he did Harry lets his nine year old concentrate on the game when all he wants to do is ask him why Louis isn’t skateboarding anymore.

Because he may have given up the competitive part of the sport, but Louis loved skateboarding. It's the reason they had the first ramp built a month after they closed on the house. He always said skateboarding made him feel like he was riding the wind. Even on the days Harry was home and didn’t feel like practicing, it didn’t stop Louis. He was always out there. Sometimes with Cam, sometimes alone, sometimes the three of the, but Louis always out there riding the wind. Skateboarding was his passion, and the need to know what changed that is killing Harry.

A nurse walks by, smiling as she moves past. Harry smiles back, but he’s beginning to feel like a spectacle standing outside the door. At least Cameron’s occupied. His face is a mask of concentration as he tilts his phone from side to side in jerky motions.

“Care to explain that to me?” Harry asks.

Cameron continues with the phone tilts while he talks. “S’called _Flappy Bird_ , and you have keep the bird from hitting the posts.”

Harry’s heard of the game, but he thought it was discontinued or something to that effect. “I didn’t think you could play that anymore.”

“You can still play it, just can't download it anymore,” Cameron explains absently. In the next second he moans and covers his eyes when he hits one of the posts, but just as he looks up at Harry with accusation all over his face the door to Niall’s room opens.

“Hey Cam, do you think you could keep your granddad company while I talk to your dad?” Liam asks, moving around them to stand on the other side of his daughter’s best friend.

“Sure,” Cameron agrees, sounding carefree.

Harry tries to remember the last time he felt that way. He certainly doesn’t feel carefree now that he’s alone with the man he can’t figure out.

“So first, I need to apologize for yesterday," Liam speaks first, sounding embarrassed. "It’s just that Louis has become a really good friend of mine and Zayn’s."

“Thanks,” Harry says, stunned.”

“Louis told us some of what happened between you two, but it didn't change my opinion of him one bit. He’s a good guy. Really genuinely devoted to Niall and his children. Plus he’s made Chelsea much more welcoming for my family. So I hope you can excuse me for being a little more on his side.”

“I can,” Harry responds quietly, wondering how every single person can make him feel like the bad guy in this.

“On the upside Niall told me Louis got some much needed sleep last night. I think anyone who could get him to do that has to be an okay person,” Niall’s doctor offers such a conciliatory smile it almost makes Harry want to hug him. “I’ve even tried to give him meds, but he wouldn’t take them.”

“Happy to be of service then,” Harry drawls, trying not to blush at the memory of how he helped Louis go to sleep.

“Now that we’ve cleared the air I’ll tell you what I just told your father-in-law. As much as l’d like to say differently, congestive heart failure is incurable and right now all we can do is manage it by treating the symptoms. With that being said, this time all we had to do was change Niall's blood pressure medication and increase the strength of his fluid retention pills. Considering the condition he was in eight days ago Mr. Horan is in remarkable shape right now, and if we monitor him regularly I see him living for a good long time. Still, if I’m totally honest no one can predict how these things go. Not even doctors.”

Harry focuses on the activity in the corridor while he lets the mixed news sink in. He gets that Dr. Payne is telling him Niall could live for another years or he could die tomorrow. Harry just has no idea how he’s supposed to respond. “Uhm, I’ll be sure to pass the information along to Louis,” is what he eventually comes up with.

“Actually we called him while I talked to Niall,” Liam corrects him. "Wish I could've given him better news on his birthday."

“I'm sure he understands. We've been dealing with this for a while now,” Harry replies, feeling the need to include himself somehow. He's so tired of feeling left out.

"That you have," Liam responds with approval in his eyes. Maybe he understands. “Before I forget, since it’s Christmas Eve my office is closed. For the next few days actually. I’m only here at the hospital to make rounds. Niall suggested Cameron might want to leave when I'm done. I know for sure Sam would love it if he came home with me."

“I think I should leave that up to Louis and Cam,” Harry won’t hold his son at the hospital longer than he wants to be there, but he won’t make him leave if he wants to stay.

“Louis already agreed over the phone, but I understand if Cam wants to spend more time with his granddad. I’ll stop by after I see my last patient, which should take another hour or so. If he wants to come with me please know you’re still welcome to come meet Sam. if you need directions just get my number from Niall and I’ll guide you.”

The offer sounds sincere. Harry chooses to believe it is.

“I'll do that,” Harry takes the hand Liam is holding out, returning the firm handshake. Finding the house really wouldn't be a problem with the navigator in the rental. All Harry needs is an address, but he doesn’t feel the need to tell the doctor that.

“Okay then. Until later I guess,” Liam sounds as awkward as Harry feels before turning to presumably head towards his next patient’s room.

“Liam?”

The name doesn’t roll off Harry's tongue as easy as Dr. Payne does, but if he’s moving back to Chelsea he should probably get used to addressing the doctor by his first name. “Merry Christmas, and thanks.”

Harry leaves it up to Liam to figure out what he’s thanking him for. Maybe it’s for the apology or for talking to him about Niall’s condition. Maybe it's for being so great with Cameron and being such a good friend to Louis.

Harry’s not so sure himself, but he thinks it’s probably a little of all of the above.

∞∞∞

“Daddy said I can leave with Uncle Li if it’s okay with you."

Cameron’s back on the bed with Niall, using the attached remote to flip through the television channels, but he stops to look at his dad when he comes back into the room.

Harry sits down before he answers. “Of course it’s okay,” he gives Cameron smile that he hopes doesn't show how disappointed he feels. He’s not surprised Cameron grabbed at the opportunity to see his best friend sooner than later. He was just really looking forward to spending the day with his son.

The disappointment increases when Liam’s hour turns out to be only a little more than thirty minutes. All too soon Harry’s hugging his son goodbye and watching him follow the doctor out of the door.

“Why’d you suggest that?” he turns reproachful green eyes on Niall after he’s sure he can’t be overheard.

“I couldn’t very well talk to you with my grandson here, could I?” Niall replies bluntly.

“I don’t see where there’s much to talk about,” Harry responds stubbornly.

“Arithea will be here in an hour or two. Louis will probably be right behind her seeing as I told him he can only stay one hour today. That means we don’t have long.”

“Shouldn’t Arithea be spending the holidays with her family?” Harry asks, pretty sure Louis would have given her the next few days off.

“She doesn’t have a family. Well none that she’s likely to spend the holidays with, and because I know my son would try to divide his time between the kids and the hospital, I asked her if she’d consider staying with me so he wouldn’t have to. Don’t know why she even keeps a flat when she practically lives with me anyway.”

“I didn’t know she lived in,” Harry adds the piece of information to the growing list of things he’s been left out of the loop on. Knowing it’s his fault doesn’t ease the hurt and disappointment.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, but I plan to fix that,” Niall responds, smoothing the blanket over his legs.

“Why doesn’t Louis ride the wind anymore?” Harry takes advantage of the door the older man opened. Louis not skateboarding anymore is the only thing he’s concerned about right now.

“I think you already know the answer to that,” Niall says pointedly.

He’s right. Harry didn't want to consider the possibility, but he knew the instant the words left Cam’s mouth. “Because of my accident."

“He didn’t want you to know, but yeah,” Niall follows his answer with a deep breath.

“Why?”

Harry was aware that Louis stopped skateboarding while he recovered from the accident, but after his leg healed he was so busy traveling back and forth to LA to pay it much attention. The disagreements over having another baby complicated things even more, but Harry never considered that Louis had stopped altogether. Or that he ever could.

“Why do you think? He didn’t want you to feel guilty, and before you get ahead of yourself it’s not because he’s scared,” Niall responds, confusing Harry in the process. “He’s had too many accidents of his own to let yours scare him away. None as serious as yours, but enough to make him aware of the risks all the same. No, he’s afraid of hurting himself seriously or worse, and leaving Isabel without a parent. He knows Cam has you, but Isa has only him and me, and we all know I’m no good to her in my condition. So he won’t take the risk anymore.”

“Fuck!” Harry’s face is tormented, and he lets out another agonized moan.

“Do you know why Louis never took my last name?” Niall asks quietly.

“I know what he told me,” Harry responds, still thrown by the revelation. “It was the last connection he had to his birth mum.”

“That’s partly true, but the main reason was because he worried someone from his mother’s family might come looking for him. He was scared they wouldn’t know to look for Louis Horan. He was twelve years old then and over twenty years later no one’s come looking that we know of. Not one person. Me own mother and father are long gone. My brother is dead. Bella was an only child. Her parents were gone years before we adopted Louis. That means if I die he literally has no family of his own. Even worse, if he dies tomorrow I’ll get custody of Isa, and you’ll get Cameron. His children will still be separated, and in his mind that’s no better than that precious little girl ending up in foster care.”

“I’d never let that happen,” Harry says incredulously. “How could he think I wouldn’t be there for Isa? Does he think my parents would just stop loving her because he’s not around? They love her just as much as they love Cam.”

“Louis knows that in his heart, but his head is a different matter. Besides their first loyalty is to you, and you haven’t exactly given him any indication you’d be okay with Robin and Anne taking Isa in or that you’d be there for her yourself. You left him, you told him she wasn’t yours, and in nine months you haven’t shown any sign that you’ve changed your mind.”

“I was so bloody angry. I still don’t understand why he did it, but I never meant to take it out on Isa,” Harry says with heated agitation. He goes to run an impatient hand through his hair, but he forgot he put in up in a bun before he started decorating the tree. “I said things I didn’t know how to take back, but that doesn’t excuse Louis for giving up without a fight. He let me leave without a fight. When I told him I’d only discuss Cameron with him, he didn’t fight it. He filed for divorce without fighting. Now I’m the one who doesn’t know how to fight. I don’t even know if he wants me to.”

“Don’t be an idiot. Louis never stopped loving you,” Niall laces his arthritic fingers together. “He made a horrible mistake. One he couldn’t take it back even if he wanted to.”

“Then just be honest!” Harry clinches his fists. “Why is that such a hard concept to grasp? He should’ve simply told me the truth.”

“He knew he’d lose you, and you proved him right didn’t ya?” Niall says wryly. “My son was wrong. There’s no getting around that. He never should have gone to Karen without discussing it with you. His reasons for that are for him to tell, but I can tell you something that might help you understand him a little better.”

“Nothing you say can excuse what Louis did,” Harry digs in, not quite ready to hand out any pardons.

“Where's Jack when I need him?" Niall sort of threatens. "Did you just hear what I said? He was wrong, and I’m not trying to excuse him. I’m trying to help you get over yourself."

“I’m listening then,” Harry concedes, but not without a fair amount of irritation.

He can readily admit the anger’s gone. Some of it replaced by guilt. Some of it with confusion, but forgiving Louis seems like an uphill battle. Still he'll listen to what Niall has to say, and there’s only a small wait as Louis’ dad busies himself by drinking down a huge gulp of water before blowing his nose.

Niall starts talking in a pinched toned. “When me and Bella discovered we couldn’t have children we decided we’d be fine without them and for almost fifteen years we were. Then one day the need was there. Maybe more for Bella, but I was feeling the emptiness too. Despite that I let it be my wife’s decision. I waited until she broached the subject, and when she finally did I was ready. We didn’t waste any time. Decided we’d go through the government before trying a private adoption agency,” Niall stops to get a tissue from the bedside table and dab at his eyes.

Harry’s stomach muscles tighten automatically. As far as he knows the story of how Louis came to live with Niall and Bella is pretty straightforward. He was in the foster care system for close to two years when the middle aged couple first saw him. It was of love at first sight. End of story.

“At the time the government's process for adoption was long and drawn out. Took years sometimes, but Ms. Michaels, the lady assigned to be our caseworker said if me and Bella became foster carers first an adoption could possibly happen quicker. Bella and I just wanted to be parents. Didn’t even take time to think it over. We made the decision that day and about a month later we were given the go ahead. We went in knowing it was a onetime thing for us so we requested an infant or toddler even though we might have a wait because everyone wanted babies, but miraculously enough there was a qualifying baby in long term care. A fourteen month old little girl named Olivia, but four months or fourteen months, didn’t matter to us. We wanted her.”

"Louis said as much," Harry breaks in. Louis didn’t exactly go into details, but he did tell Harry that Niall and Bella had first planned on taking an infant into their home before they chose him.

“Never forget that day,” Niall says, fresh tears filling his eyes. “We were so excited, thinking we'd be meeting our daughter, but when we get to the house our case manager was already there waiting for us. She didn’t even give us time to get inside before she started apologizing. Kept saying she was sorry. Finally she told us someone was already in the process of adopting Olivia. Apparently, there was some kind of mix up with the paperwork. To me that was English for we fucked up.”

“I’m really sorry that happened to you and Bella,” Harry sympathizes, but Niall waves it off.

“It’s all in the past now,” he pulls more tissues from the box. “I knew if I was heartbroken Bella had to be devastated, but when I turned to comfort her she wasn’t beside me anymore. I was so angry I didn’t realize she had moved, but there she was standing in the doorway of a room we passed when we first entered the house. I called her name, but she didn’t move. So I walked over to touch her shoulder. She jumped like I scared her, but still she didn’t turn around. She just pointed to this impossibly tiny figure sitting on the floor.”

“Louis,” Harry guesses nervously.

“He was sitting in a corner with his arms wrapped around his waist. He was so small. My heart broke instantly because I’ve never seen anyone look so alone in me entire life. Later on that night Bella told me it felt like she was drawn to the room. I believed her because one look at Louis and I knew he was ours. Something in me gut told me that little boy on the floor was my son.”

All of a sudden Harry feels like he should tell Niall to stop. It’s already too much and he has a sick feeling Louis’ dad is nowhere near finished.

“Like I said Bella was transfixed. Even when she asked who he was she didn’t take her eyes off of him. When the caseworker said that’s little Louis Tomlinson she sounded so dismissive, like her telling us his name should’ve been enough for us to lose interest. I don’t know, maybe it was because we wanted an infant. Whatever her reasons were she had already turned away when Isabel walked over to Louis and sat down on the floor in front of him holding her arms out,” Niall’s voice trembling, and his tears are falling freely now. “For the longest time he didn’t move, but you know how stubborn Bella could be, bless her sweet soul. Finally Louis looked up with the saddest pair of blue eyes. Bella's back was to me so I don’t know what Louis saw on her face to make him dive into her arms like he did, but I imagine it was something he wasn’t too familiar with in his young life.”

Harry’s face is just as wet as Niall’s and he sniffs to keep his nose from running. Niall doesn’t have to say anymore. Harry understands why Louis won’t risk skateboarding now. He'd do the same if he thought for one second Cameron might end up in foster care, but he doesn’t have that worry because Cam has Louis. Even if he didn’t, Harry has the additional security of knowing his entire family would be there for his son. They would be there for Isabel too. So would he, but thanks to him, Louis has no way of knowing that.

“Wasn’t in my wife's arms five minutes before he fell asleep, and she just sat there on the floor holding him. Then in a tone I’d never heard her speak in before, my usually gentle spirited wife told the case manager that she wasn’t leaving without Louis. Even if she had to move in until all the paperwork could be taken care of. Mind you, we didn’t know a thing about him. He could have been a short term charge or maybe his family was trying to get custody of him. There were so many possibilities, but like I told you, somehow we knew Louis belonged with us.”

“Were you able to take him home that day?” Harry squeezes the question past an almost closed throat. 

“By some miracle yes we were, but there’s more,” Niall's voice so thick it’s almost unrecognizable. “Besides Bella, I’ve never shared this with a living soul, but if there’s the slightest chance it’ll bring you two back together I have to tell you. I have to."

Niall sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than Harry, but a nurse walking in prevents him from continuing.

“Should I come back, love?” the nurse asks with concern in her voice. According to her badge her name is Janet and she sounds as nice as the smile on her face. While she waits for Niall’s answer she replaces the almost empty bag of iv fluids for a full one.

“No, you’re fine. These are just the tears of an old man reminiscing about the past,” Niall assures the nurse, not explaining why Harry’s face is wet too.

Harry takes the opportunity to escape to the bathroom to wash his face. When he comes back out Nurse Janet is taking a blood pressure cuff from Niall’s arm. “Everything’s looking good today, love. Do you need anything right now?”

“Nothing, thanks,” Niall answers.

“You’re welcome. Just a push of the button away if you think of anything,” Nurse Janet says as she pushes the machine towards the door. “They’ll be bringing your lunch in any minute now,” she adds, smiling at Niall then Harry before she closes the door.

“Would only be lunch if it was worth eating,” Niall mutters.

“I’m sure you need the nutrients,” Harry responds sympathetically, recalling the questionable hospital fare he was served during his stay, but hardly ever ate.

“What good will the nutrients do me if I choke to death trying to swallow,” Niall responds in Niall fashion. A split second later there’s a soft knock on the door.

“Come in,” Harry answers, hopefully loud enough for the individual on the other side to hear.

“I have your lunch here, Mr. Horan.”

This time it’s a man wearing dark blue scrubs with a white band around the arms and collar. He sits the tray of food on the table beside Niall’s bed before rolling it across to the unenthusiastic receiver.

“Thanks, Petey. Looking good today?” Niall talks like this isn’t the first time this particular person delivered his food.

“You already know the answer to that, Mr. H.,” the man responds dryly then lifts the lid off of a plate of peas, baby carrots, and something that might be a piece of chicken.

After seeing the offering Niall looks even more agitated, but he thanks the man again before he walks out just as quietly as he walked in.

“Not eating that,” Niall says petulantly after he pushes the table away.

Harry can’t fault him so he stays quiet although the mixed fruit bowl looks edible enough. “Maybe the fruit?” he suggests.

“Later, now where were we,” Niall asks, but it’s not a question. “Right, so while Bella sat on the floor looking for all the world like she’d fight anybody who tried to take the boy away from her the caseworker asks if she can talk to me alone for a minute. Of course I’m torn because I don’t want to leave my wife, but I know I need to hear what Ms. Michaels has to say,” Niall stops talking. His hands are shaking more noticeably and he clears his throat before continuing.

“I followed her into another room where she sat down and immediately started rummaging through a briefcase. Finally she looked up, holding out a file to me. She said she wasn’t supposed to do it, but if I read everything in the file and still thought we’d be interested in fostering Louis she’d do everything in her power to get him released to us that day. She said she really hoped we’d want to because on top of everything the poor lad had suffered, her supervisor was considering placing him in a home for mentally disturbed children,” Niall’s voice cracks again. “I thought that was bad enough, but what I read…,”

Harry’s almost scared out of his mind, but he has to hear the rest now that Niall’s started. “Tell me all of it.”

“His birth mother was an alcoholic. It was really bad. Louis ended up in foster care because she had an accident with him in the car. She was given so many chances to get him back. They sent her to rehab three times, but the addiction was too powerful. She loved him though. Never missed her scheduled visits, and Louis was always distraught when she had to leave. Sadly, the drinking got worse and she lost permanent custody of him thirteen months after the accident that landed him in foster care.”

Harry knows this part too. His then boyfriend told him about his mum’s struggle with alcohol. How it led him to his stay in foster care and how it ended up being the ultimate cause of her death. It’s the reason Louis doesn’t drink anything stronger than wine to this day.

“File said she didn’t know who his real dad was, and that she didn’t have any family to take him in. When she lost custody they tried to find a good long term home for him, but his mother died from liver failure before they could. He was transferred eight times until they found a suitable couple to take him in, but it turned out they were just in it for the money the government gave them. According to the file Louis was nine years old, but the boy in the other room with Bella could have easily passed for six or seven because they only fed him once a day if they fed him at all. Sometimes the school lunch was his only meal.”

“No,” Harry realizes the nightmarish story is about to get worse. Niall wouldn’t be so torn up about it twenty something years later if it wasn't.

“Good thing the beasts had to make sure he attended school in order for him to stay in their care because finally one of Louis’ teachers noticed he was dropping weight at an alarming rate. She should have called his caseworker, but she called the foster parents because she thought he might have a bug that needed medical treatment. It didn’t occur to her that it was abuse and neglect,” Niall’s eyes overflow with tears. “When the headmaster got to school the next morning he found Louis on the ground outside the school gates. The file said he was lying on his side with his legs drawn up and his arms wrapped around his waist,” he throws his head back. He blinks like he’s fighting more tears, but they keep falling anyway.

“What did they do to him?” Harry asks although he’s terrified of the answer.

“They beat him because they thought he snitched on them. The principle didn’t know it until he touched Louis’ shoulder to wake him up, and he screamed out in pain. They hurt him so bad one little touch woke him up, and the pictures…,” Niall swallows several times before continues. “His poor wee back. I’ll never be able to wrap my head around how somebody could do that to a defenseless child,” he adds brokenly, and Harry reaches out to comfort him.

Niall clings to the hand like it’s a lifeline. “Wasn’t Louis' first beating, but it was the worst. Scared him enough to make him run away after those bastards fell asleep. After doing that to him they fell asleep. Rat arse sons of bitches,” Niall spits out angrily. “I’m not a violent man, but I could have easily become one that day.”

“Where did he go?” Harry asks, tormented at the thought of how much pain Louis had to be in and how frightened he had to be. Not to mention how dangerous it was for a nine year old to alone on the streets at night.

“He remembered the route his bus took in the mornings. He walked over four miles in the dead of night to get to his school because it was the only place he knew to go. How they planned to cover the beating up, I don’t know, but they were still asleep when the authorities arrived to arrest them. The animals had the nerve to say they didn’t touch him, and if the strap they used wasn’t still on the kitchen floor with Louis’ blood on it they probably would have gotten away with it because Louis wasn’t talking anymore. Somewhere between the beating and the principle finding him, he had stopped talking. The doctors said he was in shock. Post-traumatic stress is what they actually called it.”

“No,” Harry keens, rocked to his core. “No.”

“The wounds were only superficial, but some were blistered over like burns. Some were open so they kept him in the hospital to make sure they didn’t get infected. Thankfully, there was no evidence of sexual abuse, but when they released Louis two weeks later he still hadn’t said a word. Even more tragic, the process started all over again. He was back to being shuffled from one short term foster home to another. The day we found him, he’d been in that particular home for two weeks and was just about to be transferred to another one. Or worse, a mental institution.”

“His back?” Harry asks. He’s trying to get the horrifying image of Louis’ injured back out of his head, but it’s stuck there.

“Was healed by the time we got him, and mercifully there were no lasting physical scars,” Niall answers, and it’s obvious Louis suffered in other ways by the way he stresses the word physical. “When I gave the caseworker back the file I told her nothing’s changed. We still wanted him, and without another word I went back to wait with Bella and Louis until we got the approval," he continues with probably the same conviction he had in his voice back then. "When I walked in I heard Bella telling Lou in the softest voice that if he wanted his new home was with her and her Irish husband. That maybe one day we could all visit Ireland together. Without knowing anything about the file she told him she would take care of him from then on. Protect him from all the bad people and bad things. Then she asked Louis if that was okay, if he’d like to come live with her. Didn’t know I wasn’t breathing until I heard the weak voice say yes.”

“His first word since the beating,” Harry says brokenly, more grateful than he’s ever been for his in-laws. Without Niall and Bella who knows where his husband would be and he might not have met the love of his live. Even with Louis’ betrayal it’s an unbearable thought.

“Yeah, it was and for a while Bella was the only person Lou talked to. He tolerated me at best, but he clung to Bella so much she had to sleep with him for the first few weeks he was in our home. Me, he just stared at. Did everything I told him to, but never said a word. He went to school, followed instructions, completed all of his assignments, but the only person he communicated with was Bella. His therapist told us to just give him time so that’s what we did. A month later Louis still hadn’t said a word to anyone except Bella, not even the therapist.”

“Why?”

“Doctor said it was probably because she resembled his birth mother, but without Louis talking it was only an educated guess.”

Louis has a few pictures of his birth mother, and besides her and Bella both having long brown hair the two women didn’t look anything alike. A scared and traumatized nine year old might not be so discerning. Especially one who’d been through as much as Louis.

“When did he start talking to you?” Harry’s ready for the story to be done. His heart rate hasn’t been at a normal pace since Niall started talking and it doesn’t show signs of slowing down.

“I really thought we were headed for a breakthrough when the doctor suggested I try to connect with him over the sports he was interested in. Louis' birth mother listed football and skateboarding under interests in his file. So I rushed out faster than you could blink and purchased a football and two skateboards. I thought this is it. To teach the old man some new tricks he has to talk to me, but it didn’t work. Oh, he loved the ball and skateboard if I left him to it, but as long as I was there to watch he ignored me.”

“That had to be really hard on you,” Harry says, almost overwhelmed with pity for Niall and the little boy who’d suffered more in his nine years than most people did in a life time.

“The therapist kept reassuring us it was only a matter of time. He told us it was common in cases of children suffering from post-traumatic stress to latch onto one person, and we should look at the fact that Louis was thriving in other areas as a very positive sign. Well, turned out he was right. One month and eighteen days after Louis came to live with us he said his first words to me. “Do you know what he said?”

Harry can’t say anything. All he can do is shake his head, and return the tight squeeze Niall gives his hand.

“He said, I’m sorry. Because he accidentally spilled a bowl of cereal, his first words to me were I’m sorry,” Niall says emotionally. “He stood there staring at the mess with a look of pure horror on his face and before I could react he fell to his knees. I had no idea why until he started cleaning it up with his bare hands. The broken pieces and all. I was horrified, but when I tried to stop him, he jumped back and started saying I’m sorry. Kept saying it over and over. He sat there with his arms wrapped around his tiny waist looking at me with so much fear in his eyes. My heart was breaking, but I dropped to the floor and I started talking to him,” Niall pauses to pull more tissues from the box.

“I told him it was okay. I told him how I used to make messes all the time, and how me mum would laugh at me then hug me to let me know it was okay. I told him how special he was. That he didn’t have to be afraid of me because I loved him and would never ever hurt him. The entire time I was scooting my way over to him, never breaking eye contact with him. I don’t know what made me stay on the floor, I just knew if I stood up I’d lose him and when I finally got to him, I pulled him into my arms. I rocked him and continued telling him what a wonderful boy he was. How happy me and Bella were to have him, but he kept saying he was sorry. I was so intent on showing him a spilled bowl of cereal wasn’t a big deal I didn’t realize he was talking to me.”

Harry tries to hold back a sob, but he can’t. The need to be with Louis is so powerful he has half a mind to get up and leave.

“It took Bella walking in on us and crying out for it to finally penetrate. Louis was actually talking to me, but only because he was scared. That’s when I couldn’t take anymore. It finally broke me that this little person I’d come to love more than life and would do anything for was scared of me. So I sat sobbing with my boy still in my arms, and miracle of miracles, after a few minutes I felt this small sticky hand try to wipe away my tears. It was tentative, but it was still comforting and to top it off Lou tells me it’s okay. I don’t know who cried harder me or Bella, and then there were three on the floor,” Niall laughs through his tears.

“Please tell me he was okay after that. Please,” Harry pleads, praying silently that his husband’s suffering ended on the kitchen floor that day.

“Sure enough it was the breakthrough we’d been praying for, but everything didn’t all of a sudden go sunny and peachy. Louis was talking to me, but he still had nightmares to deal with. Sometimes me and Bella would wake up in the mornings to find him balled up at the bottom of our bed. He didn’t interact with any of the kids at his school. Only talked to his teachers, and he was always so timid, so afraid of messing up. It was heartbreaking to watch, but he kept getting better and better, until one day we weren’t counting his smiles and laughs or the times he slept in his own bed the entire night. He became more social at school although he never had friends over like most teens, but there was a group of kids he'd hang out with sometimes and he went go to parties every now and then. Sometimes I think he even chose skateboarding over football so he wouldn’t have to deal with teammates regularly, but at least he was doing something he loved and he was okay. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good. We were a family and our boy was edging closer to his normal with each passing day. After the beginning we had it was more than we dared hope for.”

“I had a right to know,” Harry accuses painfully, remembering how Louis folded in on himself last night when he thought he was alone in the kitchen and again later when he fell asleep .

“Yes, you did. Bella and I tried to convince our son to tell you more than once, but you have to understand in his mind Louis left that little boy behind long before he met you. At least he likes to think he did. I just wish he realized everything he went through helped him become the incredible man he is today,” Niall sighs.

“Yeah,” Harry responds quietly, almost breathlessly. It was his fault both times he found Louis in the defensive position last night. He was trying to protect himself just like his nine year old self used to. “I didn’t know,” Harry mutters, reeling at the thought. How many times had his husband assumed the same position over the years and he never realized it because he didn’t know. “I just didn’t know.”

“He didn’t want you to,” Niall responds, misunderstanding the tortured words. “He knew what competing meant to you. What it still means, and he never wanted to get in the way. He wanted to make it easy for you compete and be away from home without worrying. Showing you he could do it on his own was his way of doing that, but don’t ever think it was a piece of cake for him. Never seen my boy happier than the times you were home or when he and Cam traveled to LA to be with you.”

“Well he succeeded because I always felt like he didn’t need me. Sometimes I think Louis left me long before I left him,” Harry reasons, but even as he says the words he realizes it's not the entire truth because sometimes he wonders if he ever had Louis at all. At least now he’s beginning to understand why.

“You can’t wait seven years to be angry with him for being the supportive husband he thought you wanted. Things aren’t always black and white, Harry. You’re setting yourself for a lot of disappointment if you don’t know that,” Niall sounds disappointed. “Do you know I was prepared to dislike you before we met?”

“No, I didn’t,” Harry responds, a little thrown off. He always thought Niall was one of his and Louis’ biggest fans.

“I heard the rumors about you and I thought you were just using Louis for a little action. I knew for my boy to even give you a chance he had to have serious feelings for you. I thought someone like you wouldn’t know anything about being serious, but Bella kept insisting I was wrong. She kept saying I had to give you a chance and I figured since she was the one on tour with Louis most of the time I had to at least pretend to believe her. I put on a fake smile and welcomed you into our home, but it didn’t take ten minutes for me to see it. It was almost breathtaking watching you boys. Louis was a fidgety wreck before you arrived, but when you did you reached out to take his hand. A calm I'd never seen before took over him, and you...you were so careful with him. So besotted and you were so attentive to him. Like by some instinct you knew you had to be. Even as young as you were it was there for anyone to see and I was over the moon because I never thought my son would let anyone close enough to him to ever have that kind of relationship. The thing between you two was powerful then and it still is. You just have to find your way back to it.”

Niall isn’t saying anything Harry doesn’t already know. Yes, it’s still there. It’s felt like a blade scraping his bones raw every minute he’s been gone. He gave Louis a piece of himself that he’ll never own again, but it may be next to impossible to find their way back to what they had before Louis’ lies.

“How do you propose we do that, Niall? I married a man I don’t think I really know. We were together for sixteen years, and every day he was keeping a huge part of himself hidden from me. A part I had every right to know about,” Harry contends, removing his numb fingers from Niall’s grip then bending them to repeatedly get the circulation back. "He taught himself how to cook in a few months," he adds, still not over it. Cooking was the one area Harry always felt needed. His one area of contribution, now he doesn't even have that.

"He survives, Harry. Don't you get it now? No matter what's thrown his way, Louis finds a way to survive," Niall responds tiredly.

"I still should've been told," Harry argues, more broken by Niall's statement than he already was.

“Would you still have married him if you knew the entire truth back then?” Niall asks, piercing Harry with his eyes.”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I would have," Harry married Louis because even after five years he still lost his breath whenever his boyfriend walked into a room. He married Louis because he loved him with every fiber of his being. Because Louis made him a better person and because he couldn’t imagine sharing the rest of his life with anyone else. He still can’t.

“Would knowing the truth have stopped you from walking out on your family?”

“That’s not fair. I walked out on Louis, not Cam. Isabel was never mine to leave.”

“Isabel is yours. She’s just as much yours as Cameron is Louis’. You’d realize that if you got out of your head for one minute and listened to your heart. Now answer the question,” Niall says doggedly.

“No, it probably wouldn’t have stopped me,” Harry sounds resigned. He is resigned.

“Now that you know will you let him explain why he did what he did? Who knows it might even make sense.”

Harry’s throat tightens up again. “Yeah, I will.”

“Then I imagine you found at the right time,” Niall inhales deeply before picking up all the tissues off his bed and throwing them in the trash.

Harry chooses not to point out the many holes in Niall’s argument because he’s focused on more important things. “I need to talk to him now,” he thinks out loud. It’s really more of a case of needing to see Louis. Just to look at him and make sure he’s okay. “He’ll be here soon, yeah?”

“Not the time or place to be having that conversation,” Niall shakes his head, misunderstanding Harry again. “Right now you need to wash your face again and help the old man do the same. Can’t have Arithea and Lou finding us in this shape.”

It’s a good thing for them that Harry doesn’t press the issue because Arithea walks through the door seconds after he puts the flannel Niall used to clean his face back in the attached en suite.

“Merry Christmas Eve to you both,” Arithea tells them, looking pretty in an oversized red jumper, and blue jeans. Her hair is still in the tight bun that somehow adds to her attractiveness.

“That’s bah humbug to you,” Niall grumbles, but his blue eyes are twinkling with something that makes Harry wonder again if he’s developed feelings for the woman he seems bent on antagonizing.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you weren’t happy to see me,” Arithea responds with a poker face. “Hello, Harry. How are you today?”

“I’m good, I think,” Harry lies, but manages to return the friendly smile. "Merry Christmas Eve to you too.

“Thanks, love. Now look what I have for you,” Arithea reaches inside her satchel and comes back out with a silver canister that has a red bow on the top.

“Is it your tea?” Harry asks, perking up.

“Talked to Louis earlier and he said how much you liked it.”

“I don’t know what to say. It’s really wonderful,” Harry says sincerely, adding another gift to the list in his head. He just hopes he has enough time to make it to the shops before they close.

Harry takes the canister from Isabel before bending to give her a brief hug of gratitude, but he sinks into the embrace once her arms are around him. He needs the comfort.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Arithea pulls back with a concerned frown on her face.

Harry nods, but Niall erupting into a coughing fit prevents him from verbally responding.

“He’s fine,” Niall chokes around the coughing. “Don’t suppose you have a Guinness in that sack of yours?”

“No, but I did bring you lunch. Roasted chicken, some mash, and mixed veggies,” Arithea pulls a plastic container out of her bag to show Niall. “There’s more for supper tonight if you want it.”

“You wonderful woman, if it weren’t for this bed I’d get up and kiss you,” Niall says, looking at the container of food with anticipation.

Arithea rolls her eyes, but there’s a fond look on her face when she looks at Harry. “There’s more than enough for you if you’d like some.”

“No thanks, I’m still recovering from an overdose of pancakes,” Harry declines the offer, slightly nauseas at the thought of food right now. Nausea that has nothing to do with the breakfast he had that morning.

“I heard Cam got a break from the microwave version, just like this lovely woman’s giving me a break from horrible hospital fare, ” Niall interrupts them again.

“I’ll just go and see if one of those lovely nurses will heat it up for you,” Arithea responds, blushing prettily for some reason only known to her. Or maybe only known to her and Niall because something passes between them that has Niall swallowing visibly, and Arithea turning redder.

“I can do that for you,” Harry offers, unable to decide which one of them he’s rescuing by speaking up.

“No,” Arithea responds quickly. She leaves the room in the same manner.

“What was that?” Harry asks, watching Niall watch the closed door.

“Have no idea what you’re on about. A better question is how are you?” Niall responds with worried blue eyes. “You almost gave us away.”

“I’m fine. I have to be, don’t I?” Harry ends the question with a dry laugh. He can’t exactly find a dark hole to hide in right now. “It’s getting late. Cam’s probably waiting, and I still have to pick up Jack Jr. and meet Gemma,” he busies himself by putting his coat on before stuffing the red scarf inside the collar.

“Don’t pity Louis, it would kill him,” Niall tells him.

“Forgive me if I think I should’ve been given that advice about sixteen years ago,” Harry stops fiddling with his clothes to stare pointedly at the man who adopted Louis. “At the least before we got married.”

“You’ll still talk to him?” Niall persists.

“Yes,” Harry wonders at what point they graduated from him listening to talking, but his answer is still the same. “Of course, I will.”

“You may not believe me, but he needs you,” Niall says, spiking his already mussed hair when he runs his hand through it.

Harry has no response. He just stares at Niall because Louis would have to believe Niall’s words for it to matter either way.

∞∞∞

It feels like the lift is taking forever and Harry debates taking the stairs while he looks down at a smudge on his left boot he didn’t know was there.

He left Niall enthusiastically digging into the meal Arithea brought him, not realizing how long he stayed until he looked at the clock before he walked out of the room. Now he has to pick up Jack Jr. and rush meeting Cameron’s friend since most of the shops in Chelsea close by six on Christmas Eve.

Before they can even think about shopping they have to meet Gemma, and waiting for the lift is wasting time Harry doesn’t have. He could easily take the stairs, but just as he makes a move to leave the doors to the lift slide open and his eyes collide with Louis’ alarmed blue ones.

Harry expected his emotions to be all over the place when he saw Louis after hearing about his childhood, but the sleeping baby in his husband’s arms is the reason his pulse skyrockets. Unsettled is a mild word for what he feels seeing Louis’ daughter in person for the first time.

“Hi,” Louis greets him cautiously. He’s the only person who stepped off the crowded lift.

Harry moves back to give him room. “Niall getting another visitor?” he looks at Isabel, disappointed that he can’t really see her because her face is pressed into Louis’ neck. The blue coat and matching bonnet makes it even harder for Harry to get a glimpse of the little girl who meant more to Louis than their marriage.

“Yeah, he insisted I bring her when I talked to him earlier,” Louis stops abruptly. “I didn't plan this. I thought you’d be gone by now,” he continues warily.

Harry pretends not to notice the way Louis wraps his arms tighter around his daughter. “I’m just on my way to meet the impressive sounding Samantha,” he says lightly, trying to ignore the unexpected pain from the protective gesture. He’s not a monster, Louis doesn’t have to guard Isabel from him.

“Don’t call her that to her face unless you want to experience her wrath,” Louis adjusts the strap to the diaper bag on his shoulder and he has to shift Isabel in the process.

“Thanks for the heads up,” Harry says, wanting to help, but he has no clue how to offer his assistance. “So, I was thinking about picking up a roast to cook tomorrow. Do you have any plans?”

“Hadn’t really thought about a meal, but Niall’s banned me from the hospital and Arithea’s backing him up. Can’t fight both of them, can I?” Louis gives him a small smile before he impatiently moves the hair off of his forehead, which leads to him having to shift Isabel again.

“They’re quite a pair,” Harry can practically see the wheels turning in Louis’ head. He doesn’t have a single doubt that Louis will find an excuse to visit Niall tomorrow. Even if it’s for five minutes.

“I’m only allowed an hour today because it's my birthday. So I'd better get in there, and I guess I’ll see you at home later,” Louis says, for some reason the words making him look more uncomfortable.

“Thanks for telling Arithea about the tea,” Harry remembers the canister in his hand. He holds it up for Louis to see and his face transforms from beautiful to breathtaking when he smiles.

“I’ll fight you for it,” Louis teases, and for quick one minute the awkwardness disappears. “Where’s a headband when you need it?” he adds, attempting to blow the hair that dropped right back down onto his forehead.

“Wait, I have something,” Harry slips his hand inside the pocket on his coat. He comes out with one of the elastic bands he uses. It’s not like the wide headband Louis had on yesterday, but it’s large enough to do the trick. The thing is there’s no way Louis can put it on with Isa in his arms, and they both know it.

Harry makes the quick decision to do it for him. He has to move in, but the sleeping baby prevents him getting too close. It doesn’t stop his stomach from knotting up.

They have been married for more than ten years for fuck’s sake. Harry’s touched Louis thousands of times. They had sex last night. It shouldn’t be a big deal for him to slide the piece of stretch material over Louis’ head, but it is when he's watched with cautious eyes the entire time. It feels like a big deal when Louis’ breath hitches after Harry’s trembling fingers tips brush against the skin on the back of his neck.

“No need to fight, I’ll gladly share the tea,” Harry brushes a stray hair off of Louis’ forehead, and it becomes an even bigger deal when his blue eyes darken. It’s definitely a big deal when Harry lowers his head intent on gluing his lips to Louis’ parted mouth, but before he makes contact the lift doors choose to open.

Harry jerks back and he just recovers enough to smile at the elderly couple getting off. Louis ducks his head before moving out of the way, but not before Harry spots the telling colour on his face.

Harry thinks at least he’s not the only one who forgot where they were. “Do you want me to pick up a couple pizzas for dinner tonight?” he asks, and he almost succeeds in sounding unaffected. 

Louis’ attempt doesn’t go much better. “I'll do it. My treat since you’re doing the cooking tomorrow,” he responds in a tone only a little higher than it normally is, and based on the deep breath Louis takes he’s very much aware of it. “I’m really going now,” he says, actually taking a step in the direction of Niall’s room this time.

“Yeah, Cam’s probably wondering where I am.”

“You do know I’m bringing her home tonight?” Louis sounds like he’s laying down a challenge.

“I’ll see you both at home then,” Harry responds. It’s Christmas Eve, he didn’t expect Isabel to be anywhere else. Has he really been that much of a prick?

Louis nods before heading off again, leaving Harry to stare after him.

Harry can’t tear his eyes away as Louis readjusts the bundle in his arms one more time before placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head. The sight shouldn’t fill Harry with so much longing. It’s nine months too late to be wondering if he made mistake, not that this is the first time he’s had the distressing thought. He’s just never been faced with the reality of it.

He’s never been a hand’s length away from the baby he denied. Now all he can do is stand and watch with regret until Louis disappears from his sight.

Harry makes his own move to leave. This time when he pushes the button the lift opens instantly and he steps on after the person inside moves over to make room for him.

Harry’s almost in the parking garage before it dawns on him that he told Louis he’d see him and Isabel at home. When he starts the car he wonders if it was more of a yearning than a slip of the tongue.

∞∞∞

“That was brilliant, buddy,” Harry shouts, sending smoky vapors into the cold air after Cameron rolls to an expert stop on his striped black and red skateboard.

They’ve been out on the ramp since making it home over an hour ago, and despite the frigid temperature Harry and Cameron are sweaty and flushed.

Louis and Harry had the second smaller ramp built two years ago when Cameron’s interest in the sport was increasing instead of fading, and although Harry was apprehensive he was thankful their son had parents who could afford to make it a safe as possible experience for him.

Right now Harry's beyond impressed at the combination _kick turn_ and _Ollie_ Cameron just completed before dropping off the edge of the deck and coming to a full stop in the center of the bull’s eye Louis insisted on. 

“You’re a natural,” Harry’s hands are still stinging from applauding so hard. He couldn’t be more proud at seeing how fluid and at ease Cameron looked doing the novice trick. It’s even more impressive because he perfected the combination after only four attempts.

Harry’s standing on the deck opposite the one Cameron just dropped from. The slope of Cameron’s ramp is not as deep as the larger one and the decks aren't as far apart, but it’s constructed to allow Harry and Louis enough room to move around comfortably on it. In Harry's opinion both ramps in their backyard are better built than some of the professional ones used in competitions.

“I have another move to show you,” Cameron looks up at Harry, still standing in the center of bull’s eye, grinning from ear to ear.

“Let’s see it,” Harry responds, waiting patiently. He watches intently while Cameron steps off the ramp to climb the steps leading to the opposite deck. He drops the skateboard before jumping on it. The second he places one foot on the tail and the other right behind the front trucks, Harry knows what his son is about to attempt.

He tenses and his pulse speeds up when Cameron bends his knees slightly for balance. Next, in a move so slight it takes an experienced skateboarder to notice, he puts most of his weight on the tail of the skateboard, lifting the front as a result. Then he moves from one end of the deck to the other with the front of the board in the air, completing an almost perfect manual.

Harry whistles as loud as he can when Cameron comes to a clean break. “No way!” he raves, more impressed because the manual was one of the hardest moves for him to learn. He was fourteen years old before he finally mastered it.

Thrilled for his son he jumps on his skateboard before diving over the edge of the platform. He bends down when he reaches the center to go into a full squat before accelerating off the curve with enough speed to propel him about five feet in the air. With an expertise learned from more than twenty years of practice he lands a few feet away from Cameron, still in a full squat.

“That was awesome, Cam,” Harry praises his son again before sitting down with his legs dangling over the edge.

Cameron drops down beside him, flushed from excitement and exertion. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I do, and I’m not saying it just because I’m your dad. You’re really good, Cam,” Harry nudges Cameron’s arm. There's a little room for improvement, but they can work on that later. Right now encouraging his son is way more important.

A wet curl escapes Cameron’s helmet and attaches itself to his forehead, and in a move so like Louis he impatiently tries to push it off. Harry reaches out to help, but he stops when Jack Jr. starts barking. If woofing twice then whining can be considered barking.

Jack Jr.'s been on the grass alternating between taking quick naps and watching Harry and Cameron. The excitement from seeing his owner again, then meeting the Malik-Payne’s wore off a long time ago and now he’s back to being his lazy self.

“Isa!” Cameron yells, standing up and bouncing down the steps to follow the dog’s much slower trek over to Louis and Isabel. Once there Jack Jr. stands up to attach his paws to Louis’ thighs, but the move apparently causes him to exert too much energy because he drops right back down into his favourite position. At least his tail is still wagging.

“Hey, bud,” Louis hugs his son before bending to pet Harry’s dog. “So this is the infamous Jack Jr.,” he goes into a full crouch in order to keep a firm hold on the wiggling package in his arms. “Good dog.”

With the elevator incident still fresh in his mind, Harry gives himself a little stalling time by taking his helmet off and when he finally joins to the group, Jack Jr. can’t be bothered with acknowledging him. Besides his bed, having his head rubbed is Jack’s favourite thing and judging from the gratifying noises Louis must be doing a smashing job of it.

Isabel on the other hand seems less impressed with the new addition in her home. She’s more interested in her brother and she’s moving around with so much excitement Louis has to stand up. “You were great up there,” he sounds just as proud as Harry did. “Isa agrees,” he bounces the active little girl to calm her.

“You saw me?” Cameron gives Isa his pointing finger, which she immediately tries to put to her mouth.

“I watched from inside. Didn’t know you were doing combinations,” Louis responds.

Cameron might be too young to recognize it, but Harry hears the wistfulness in Louis' voice. It’s obvious he misses being out here with their son just as much as Cameron misses being out here with him.

“Dad started working with me today, and I just thought I’d try it,” Cameron extracts his finger from his sister’s clutch, but gives right it back when she pouts and her eyes water. “Do you think maybe since dad’s here you could come up with me?” he adds, his green eyes hopeful and heartbreaking.

For all of two seconds Louis looks stunned, but he recovers fast. “Cam, I don’t think we should talk about this now.”

“I’m sorry, I already told dad you don’t skateboard anymore,” Cameron confesses, the same look of worry on his face when he let Louis’ secret out.

“It was an honest slip of the tongue. He didn’t mean to tell,” Harry finally speaks up with a warning in his eyes. He admires his son’s honesty, but a nine year old shouldn’t have been carrying the weight of a secret like that to begin with. He definitely shouldn’t be taken to task for telling, but it’s a pointless warning because Louis’ face is a mask of love and concern.

“Hey, there’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s not like it’s a big secret, right? I told you, your dad and I have different lives now. It’s like Harry getting a dog and buying the house in LA. We don’t have to know everything that goes on with each other. It’s expected in situations like ours. I hope you understand, buddy,” Louis explains patiently before pulling Cameron in for another hug with his free arm.

Harry stays quiet knowing his input isn’t needed. He thinks Louis explained the situation better than he ever could have. Heck, he’d probably even buy it if Niall hadn’t already told him the truth. Or if it wasn't for the fact that he never tried to keep the knowledge that he purchased a house or a dog a secret. That’s a huge difference.

“Now, back to you mister. I can’t get over how good you were today,” Louis expertly changes the subject.

“Thanks, daddy. I bet I’m nowhere your level when you were nine,” Cameron replies innocently, but Harry sees the pained look Louis tries to hide by nuzzling Isabel’s ear.

“No, trust me you’re better,” he says over his daughter's cooing noises.

“Can I hold her?” Cameron holds out his arms.

“Why don’t you put your gear up first?” Louis taps the red helmet. “Then you can help me give Isa a bath before I put her to bed.”

“Can I feed her afterwards?” Cameron asks, his devotion to his sister showing.

Louis nods his agreement to the request. “She loves it when you feed her.”

“Cool, I’ll be up as soon as I’m done,” Cameron rushes off, leaving his parents to stare awkwardly at each other and with her brother gone Isabel turns her attention to Harry, but she shows him as much interest as she showed his dog. After a solemn glance she buries her head in Louis’ neck.

“You really did a good job with him,” Louis runs a comforting hand over his daughter’s back.

“He has real talent,” Harry responds, honestly impressed with everything Cameron showed him today. “Samantha, too. She’s fearless.”

Louis eyes light up at the mention of their son’s best friend. “How’d the visit go?” 

Samantha Malik-Payne turned out to be quite the surprise. Harry couldn’t tell if she was more excited to meet him or his dog, but by the time they ended the visit she had another fan.

Harry didn’t know what he was expecting, but the redheaded little spitfire wasn’t it. Sam intrigued him instantly when her first demand was for him to autograph on an article he hadn’t even known about. She followed that up by asking for a selfie with Harry and with those formalities out of the way she pulled Harry down to whisper in his ear that she agreed with Cameron about him being home for good.

Before Harry could recover from the onslaught Sam led him, Cameron, and her parents out of the front door. Then she proceeded to skateboard up and down the paved street with ease and a good amount of skill. She’s every bit as talented as Liam claimed and a little forward too.

By the time Harry and Cameron said their goodbyes Samantha had managed to extract a promise from him to go up on the ramp with her before the holidays ended. He didn’t even consider turning her down.

“It was eye opening. She’s really outgoing and…”

“Cam’s a bit reserved,” Louis finishes Harry’s sentence exactly. “Sometimes it’s like watching a mini version of Zayn and Liam.”

“Yeah, it was amazing to see,” Harry agrees. “Nothing like us,” he adds for some unknown reason. Probably because he’s trying to perfect the art of putting his foot in his mouth.

“No they aren’t, are they?” Louis responds dryly. Thankfully Isabel starts fussing before Harry has a chance to say anything else foolish.

Louis gathers his daughter closer to his chest before beginning the familiar bouncing. “I guess I'd better get her in. She tends to wake up in the middle of the night if she’s up too much past her bedtime. We’re already cutting it close.”

“She made quite an impression on your friends. They’re both pretty upset that she's gone,” Harry responds quietly, recalling the couple’s almost insistent talk about Isabel.

“I thought I might have to fight Zayn for her. He finally let me have her when I suggested he could use it as leverage to get Liam to agree to another baby,” Louis says, but regret blankets his face almost immediately. “Sorry, it wasn’t like that.”

“It’s okay,” Harry refuses to beat a dead horse. Nothing will ever change what Louis did and it’s high past time that they move on from it. “I think I’ll take Jack Jr. for a walk if I can get him to move,” he looks down at the dog. “He was house trained when I got him, but getting him to go for walks can be an ordeal.”

“If you manage to make that happen can you bring the pizzas in from my car when you're done? I kind of got sidetracked watching Cam,” Louis’ eyes go over to where their son is storing his gear.

“Yeah, I will,” Harry agrees easily.

“I thought we’d let him choose a movie and eat in the family room if that’s okay. Hasn’t exactly been a typical Christmas Eve.”

Harry ignores the last part of the statement for obvious reasons, but he likes Louis’ plan. “I just hope our son doesn’t pick one of those horror flicks he’s grown so fond of,” he shudders at the thought of watching one of the gory films on tonight of all nights.

“You don’t let him watch those, do you?” Louis says, frowning.

“Uhm no….yes,” Harry trips over his tongue trying to come up with an answer, but honesty wins out. “Not the ones with too much violence and gore though.”

“I’m only teasing. You can blame that particular interest on Sam,” Louis smiles, humor lighting his face. “Zayn says we’re even since Cam is the reason his princess is skateboarding.”

“Somehow I don’t think Samantha ever fit the title, but fair point I guess,” Harry smiles a ridiculous smile of his own and everything feels good when Louis starts walking towards their son a few seconds later.

Maybe that was an actual breakthrough.

“Lou?” It’s been forever since Harry used the shortened version of his husband’s name. It seems personal and intimate saying it now.

“Yeah?” Louis turns to look at him.

“She’s beautiful, your daughter.”

Harry didn’t expect Louis to fall out with gratitude from the compliment, but the tight smile he gets in response still smarts a little.

Maybe not a breakthrough after all.

∞∞∞

“Can I go talk to Sam, please? She has to go to bed soon and we’re supposed to do a group call with Leslie and Hank. Besides the movie is almost over,” Cameron pleads, fidgeting.

He’s right _The Santa Clause_ is almost over. Couple that with Cameron’s distracting texting and Harry’s more than ready to let his son go talk to his friends.

Still he leaves the decision up to Louis by keeping silent. After the way they parted in the backyard Harry thought dinner would be tense, but so far so good and he’s not about to mess up the amiable atmosphere by overstepping his place a guest.

“I don’t mind if your dad doesn’t,” Louis defers to him anyway.

The gesture, intended or not, makes Harry feel not so much like an outsider. “Go ahead then. I’ll be up a little later to say goodnight.”

“Thanks, dad. You too, daddy,” Cameron jumps up, leaving an empty space between Louis and Harry as he maneuvers around his sister’s swing and before padding out of the room on bare feet. “Come on, Jackie boy,” he orders the dog from the doorway, and despite the new moniker Jack Jr. obeys.

“Peanut butter and jam on pancakes, no socks. What other bad habits will you teach our son?” Harry’s teases, but Louis takes his time responding.

“Sorry you disapprove,” he says finally, keeping his eyes glued to the television screen.

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way, Louis,” Harry tried to let the stilted comment pass, but he couldn’t let Louis continue thinking he was serious. “I was only kidding.”

“Not a problem,” Louis gives up pretending to watch the movie in favour of sliding to edge of the sofa to start collecting the plates and leftover pizza. “It’s been a long day. I think I’ll just head on up with Cam.”

“I can help you with that,” Harry moves to grab the cups they used, but Louis stops him.

“It’s not that much. I can handle it.”

Harry knows it won’t do him any good to press the matter so he sits back to let Louis finish clearing up.

When Harry’s alone he stops pretending too. The room holds too many reminders of all he’s lost for him to really pay attention to the movie and with Louis and Cameron gone he doesn’t have to hide his interest in the pictures scattered throughout the room.

The lack of Christmas decorations is a stark contrast to the main room. It makes everything stand out even more.

In the main room they have pictures of Harry's family, Louis’ birth mum, Niall and Bella, and other various photos among theirs, but in here it’s just them. This is their room.

The colour and black and white photos of Cameron are scattered throughout. Solo shots of Louis and Harry mixed in. Some pictures are of the three of them together. Every frame is a reminder of everything Harry walked away from. The added pictures of Isabel are an even more painful reminder because they fit right in and despite Harry's noticeable absence from all of her pictures they still manage to look like a happy family.

Even the wall of trophies add to the misery building inside Harry.

Louis thought it would be pretentious to display all of their trophies and medals where their visitors could see them. As a result they had the custom wall sized shelving unit built to showcase the evidence of their hard work. Every day he was gone Harry half expected boxes containing all of the material things he left behind to show up. His trophies included, but they never did. Every single award is still in its original space.

When the credits come on Harry turns the television off. He follows Louis and Cameron upstairs, but leaving the room does little to clear his mind. The haunting thoughts follow him in and out of the shower. If anything he’s more wound up by the time he puts his pajamas on.

Two days ago he would’ve said Louis was the sole blame for everything that went wrong between them. Now he’s not so sure. Louis might’ve lied, but he was the one who walked away. Does that make them equally responsible for ruining their marriage or were his actions more reprehensible than Louis’ ever were?

“Tea,” Harry mutters under his breath. A cup of tea is just what he needs to help him relax before he goes in to say goodnight to Cameron. He’s still a little too wired to sleep, but he really wants to. Except for the brief nap he took on the flight over he’s hasn't slept at all.

Ten minutes later Harry’s resting against the kitchen sink with his arms folded across his chest while he waits for the kettle to whistle. Closing his eyes and letting his head fall back is a natural progression.

This Christmas is so different from last year’s and the ones before it. Usually the three of them would travel up to Holmes Chapel for at least a couple of days, but last year Harry's entire family came here because he was still recovering from his injuries and couldn’t travel. Niall was over every day and Louis was pretending they were okay. He didn’t mention having another baby the entire week they had visitors. For that brief period they were good.

“I thought I’d have a cup as well,” Louis’ soft voice forces Harry to lift his head and open his eyes.

“It always takes me a couple days to adjust,” he responds tiredly and just as quietly.

“I know,” Louis moves to stand almost directly beside Harry before standing on his toes to reach inside the cabinet above the sink to grab a mug. “Maybe tonight’s the night,” he opens the tin Arithea gave Harry to retrieve one of the homemade tea bags before walking over to the fridge to get milk.

Harry thinks the milk must be for him because Louis takes his tea straight. “Maybe,” he sounds doubtful. If nothing happens to alter his normal routine he’ll probably drop sometime tomorrow night around seven or eight.

“Do you want sugar?"

“Not this time I don’t think,” Harry answers, sighing wearily right before the kettle whistles.

Since he’s standing closest to the range he grabs it and motions for Louis to step back so can he pour the boiling water into the cups.

“Should be perfect by the time I get out of the shower,” Louis lifts the steaming cup with care before moving towards the kitchen exit. “I guess I’ll see you bright and early. Cam will probably be up with the birds.”

“Wait,” Harry calls out, the urge to stop Louis from leaving instant and powerful. “I know why you don’t ride the wind anymore. The real reason,” he doesn’t mean for the words to sound like an accusation, but they do.

“Dammit!” Louis grimaces when his hand jerks and a drop of the hot liquid spills over onto his hand.

“Fuck! I didn't mean for that to happen,” Harry sits his cup down to reach out, but Louis evades him. He brushes past Harry, sitting his own cup down before turning the tap on. He flinches when the cold water comes in contact with his injured hand.

“Let me look at it,” Harry tries one more time, but Louis twists his body to thwart him again.

“It’s nothing. There’s not even a mark,” he leans in to inspect his hand closer. “I guess I know why Niall looked so guilty earlier,” he mumbles before turning the water off.

“After Cam left with Liam I wouldn’t let it drop. How could I?” Harry says, relieved to see Louis was telling the truth when he gets a better view of the hand. “I think I had a right to know.”

It’s only for a split second, but Louis goes deathly still before he turns around. “You stopped having a right to know when you left.”

“You’re wrong. Not when it concerns Cam. You do realize you could get hit by a car tomorrow and the results would be the same.”

“Except getting hit by a car would be out of my control. Killing myself on a skateboard isn’t. I can prevent that and I am,” Louis argues validly, but Harry debates whether or not he should point out that by the same token Louis could also stay inside to prevent getting hit by a car.

To keep the argument from escalating he chooses not to. “I’m trying to understand this, Louis. I really am, but it’s hard when I see how much Cam yearns for that time with you.”

“You don’t think I miss being out there with him because I do. More than anything, but I can’t take the risk. Guess that makes me a failure as a parent too,” Louis looks at him, not bothering to hide the agony in his eyes.

Instantly contrite Harry traps Louis against the counter. “You’re a great father, Louis. A better one than I'll ever be,” his eyes bore into Louis’ before they trail down to his mouth. “You do know that don’t you?”

“Not at the moment, no,” Louis whispers, sounding tormented.

“You should,” Harry says on a breath and he lowers his head. He only means to soothe the hurt he caused, but the wet heat from Louis’ mouth is too enticing. He licks into the hot darkness, causing Louis to moan and open his mouth wider. Harry brings his hands up to hold Louis’ face and he tangles their tongues, basking in the back and forth until he ends the kiss.

“I'd never abandon Isabel if anything happened to you,” Harry’s eyes are unwavering, his hands still gripping Louis’ face.

Even with desire clouding his eyes Louis doesn’t’ miss a beat. “After the past nine months forgive if I’m a little skeptical.”

“You don’t have to be,” Harry refuses to play along. He knows Louis is throwing his words from last night back in his face, but he doesn’t want to argue right now. He just wants to kiss his husband again and he does. Quite thoroughly, but when he pulls away to catch his breath he notices Louis gripping the counter so tight his knuckles are white.

“Why won’t you touch me?” Harry asks. Three times means it’s intentional. It stings.

“I am touching you,” Louis responds, avoiding Harry’s eyes.

“With your hands, Louis. Touch me with your hands,” Harry pleads.

“I can’t,” Louis sighs.

“Why not?”

“Daddy, your phone!” Cameron calls out, possibly saving Harry from an answer he wasn’t ready to hear.

“I better hurry before he wakes Isa,” Louis forcefully twists his body to move away from Harry without using his hands. “It’s probably your mum. Her and Robin said they might come down for Boxing Day if you’re still here,” he adds when he’s holding his tea again.

“I guess you'd better answer then,” Harry says, only slightly irritated by the interruption. Except for tonight Gemma’s spending the entire holiday with her fiancé and his family. With Robin’s children eight hours way and Harry still in Chelsea, Jay and Robin would be at loose ends so he understands why they'd want to come see their grandchildren.

“You have to stop doing that,” Louis’ words are equal to being doused with icy water, but he leaves before Harry can ask him to explain.

Not that Harry needs him to. Not when he has so many possibilities to choose from.

It could be that Louis is tired of Harry walking around in his pajamas or maybe he wants to make his own tea. Then again maybe sometime during the last nine months Louis developed the ability to read minds along with everything else and now he wants Harry to stop thinking about him every blasted second of the day. Then there’s the kissing. Okay more than likely Louis was talking about the kissing, but if he’s reading minds then he knows Harry’s incapable of stopping. He’d know that Harry wants him so much it’s in danger of consuming him.

The lies, the pain, the bad decisions. They’re both guilty to some degree, but tonight none of it matters. Nothing in their past does.

The only thing Harry can focus on is the force that keeps drawing him to the man who let him down more than any person in his life ever has. The same man who’s owned his heart since he was sixteen. The same man who despite everything that’s happened between them still owns it.

It’s pointless to keep trying to fool himself. Harry loves Louis. He never stopped and thirty minutes later when he walks out of Cameron’s bedroom he doesn’t even pretend to go in the direction of the guest bedroom. Instead his feet propel him towards the room that he’s slept in with Louis since they purchased the house.

He half expects the door to be locked, but the knob gives when he twists it.

Louis is standing by the bed drying his hair when he steps inside, and Harry’s eyes briefly rake over the tattoos littering the top half of his husband’s body before dropping to the towel loosely wrapped around his waist. They travel back up to the hand he’s running through his hair.

Harry pulse starts racing when Louis drops his arm like it’s suddenly too heavy for him to hold up.

“I think you should leave,” Louis’ softly spoken words are at odds with the resigned look in his eyes as he watches Harry’s slow approach.

Harry would turn around and walk right back out of the door if he wasn’t positive Louis was lying. “No, you don’t,” he puts his hand on the lower part of Louis’ back to force him forward and he bends to sample the offering from Louis’ open mouth.

This time Harry lets Louis take the kiss where he wants it to go and he’s not disappointed.

Louis conducts a slow and thorough search of his mouth before nipping a path down to the pulse at his throat. “Haz,” Louis moans.

“I need you. I think tonight more than I ever have,” Harry whispers, shivering from the feel of Louis’ mouth against his neck. He’s been half ready since their small interaction in the kitchen. Make that since the almost kiss at the lift in the hospital and he reaches in between their bodies to untuck the towel, his hand itching to wrap around the stiff erection that’s somehow managed to stay covered.

Before Harry accomplishes his goal his hand brushes against one of Louis’ and he stops cold. He takes a step back and sure enough both of Louis’ hands are hanging limp by his sides.

“I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for last night. You didn’t deserve that, and as much I want to I can’t change it, but we can start over. I just need you to want this as much as I do,” Harry doesn’t give a tit if it sounds like he’s begging. Not if that’s what it takes to get Louis to touch him.

“I do,” Louis sighs loudly before widening the space between them by another inch or two. He keeps his eyes trained on Harry as he loosens the towel before letting it fall to the floor.

Ss much as Harry appreciates the view and the explicit evidence that Louis wants him the bold gesture isn’t enough. “That’s not what I meant, Louis,” he sighs.

“I know what you meant,” Louis looks at him for another long second. “I want you so much I'm aching, but I won’t touch you,” he adds before turning his back to Harry to pull the duvet back. In the process he gives Harry a nice view of the backside that after all these years is still perfect and begging to be touched.

Harry's still entranced when something on the nightstand catches the corner of his eye. He tears his eyes away from the enticing view to look at the object in question and he knows what it is as soon as he looks at the monitor full on because they purchased a similar one for Cameron. It turned out to be a blessing and a curse because the first few months after they brought him home they rushed to their son’s side for every noise, big or small.

The monitor wasn’t there last night. Maybe if it had been Harry wouldn’t have acted the way he did. Tonight it’s only a reminder that things are nowhere near resolved between them. It doesn’t even come close to making him stop. Not with Louis lying down in all his naked perfection.

“Do you want this enough to accept that?” Louis asks, the uncertainty in his voice unnecessary because Harry’s already taking his clothes off.

He makes quick work of taking off his tee and pajama bottoms, ignoring the hand Louis is running lazily up and down his chest and stomach, almost touching his erection before moving back up.

Harry has to ignore him or he might come on the spot. “I accept, but you have to tell me why,” he demands as he settles between Louis’ legs. “Why won't you touch me?”

Louis' hand goes still and his eyes instantly fill moisture and so much pain Harry feels sick for asking. Again he wants to take the question back, but this time it's too late. Louis is already talking.

“When you left I thought if I could just touch you everything would be okay. I knew if I could just hold your hand or run my fingers through your hair you’d calm down and listen to me. I just needed to touch you, but you weren’t here. You were never here, but I finally got to a place where I didn’t wake up in the middle of the night reaching for you, where my palms didn’t ache with the memory of your skin. I don’t want to have to try to find that place again. It was too hard getting there.”

Harry was right in the kitchen. He wasn’t ready to hear the reason. He's overwhelmed with emotion, and he bends to kiss away the wetness clinging to Louis’ eyelashes. “Your smell.”

“What?” Louis frowns, but he responds to the brief kiss Harry gives him.

“I missed all of you, but I thought I'd go crazy missing your smell. I used to dream about it. Just holding you and inhaling your scent. They turned to nightmares when I woke up and realized I was just dreaming. It was so bad that sometimes I fooled myself into believing I could smell you on Cam.”

“Haz,” Louis’ expression is tortured as he hesitantly brings his hands up to cup Harry’s face. He shuts his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he trace circles over the skin with his thumbs. He moves down to Harry’s neck and shoulder, a tear falling as his hands relearn every curve and groove.

Harry doesn’t take time to enjoy the small victory. He stores the moment in his memory to relive at a later date. Maybe when memories are all he has.

“I missed smelling you here,” Harry bends to breathe in Louis’ hair. It’s almost dry now and it smells like the rain scented shampoo he’s been using for more than ten years. “And here,” he moves down to the curve of Louis neck. He inhales deeply, savoring the smell of soap and the scent that’s all Louis. This time he gives into the pleasure he denied himself last night. He bites and sucks on the sensitive skin before gliding his lips across the _It Is What It Is_ tattoo.

Louis is quiet, but a trembling hand travels from Harry’s shoulders to grasp his upper arm, leaving a trail of heat and another memory for Harry to store. “And here,” he moves down Louis’ chest peppering it with short reverent kisses. He adds his tongue when he reaches Louis’ stomach and he sucks hard enough to leave a bruise because it still thrills him to mark his husband. Even if it’s in a place no one will ever see.

Harry slides further down until he’s kneeling. Then he wraps a hand around Louis’ hardness. “Definitely here,” Harry lowers his head and buries his nose in the fine hairs over Louis’ crotch. It’s soapy and musky and all Louis. Harry’s content to just breathe him in. Maybe if he inhales enough the scent will permeate his lungs and stay there forever.

He’s about to pay the rigid flesh in his hand similar attention when it sinks in Louis isn’t just trembling anymore, he actually shaking. Harry’s snaps his head up horrified he made Louis cry again, but he’s not crying. He’s laughing.

“Hey,” Harry draws the word out, letting his offense be known. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry, but it tickles,” Louis stares down at him, laughing so hard he can hardly get the words out. Or see the glint enter Harry’s eyes.

He’s in the perfect area to get revenge. “How’s this for funny?” Harry asks before tightening his hold and before Louis can form an answer, he attempts to swallow him down in one motion.

“Oh,” Louis’ hips jerk causing him to push deeper into Harry’s mouth, unintentionally helping Harry achieve his goal.

“Admit it, I was doing good up until that point,” Harry pulls off to make the demand, but goes right back down.

“You were doing splendid,” Louis gasps when Harry runs his tongue over the tip before drawing the sensitive head into his mouth.

Harry’s hair is pulled back into a ponytail, but that doesn’t stop Louis running his fingers through it and grazing Harry’s scalp with his nails. Apparently not satisfied, he slides the elastic band off entirely.

“And now?” Harry pulls off again and this time he waits.

“Bloody amazing,” Louis’ face is distorted with passion. He’s so stunning Harry can’t take his eyes off of him when he begins to suck and lick with intent. Ignoring his own escalating need to give Louis as much pleasure as possible.

“Harry, please,” Louis moans quietly, rocking his hips in rhythm with Harry’s mouth.

Harry really did miss Louis’ smell to the point of madness, but right now his taste is what’s driving Harry crazy. He intensifies the up and down motions, pausing only when he uses his tongue to lick around the engorged head.

“Haz, I need…”

Harry lifts his head when Louis stops short and his heart splits in two when he sees the vulnerable expression on Louis' face. “Tell me,” he urges.

Last night Harry took. Tonight all he wants to do is give. If blowing Louis into the next century was the way to do it he would. But there’s something Louis loves more. He’s never been ashamed to admit it and Harry knows what he wants before he says it. He just desperately needs to hear it.

“Make love to me,” Louis drags a trembling finger over Harry’s wet and swollen mouth.

A stronger man might try to draw the pleasure out before giving in. Not Harry. He moves up Louis’ body to seal his consent with a kiss.

He kisses Louis like his life depends on it and it sort of feels like it does. For so long he hasn’t allowed himself to feel anything but anger. Now every ounce of the love, remorse, and fear he buried beneath the anger refuses to be held back anymore.

Harry pours the rush of emotion into the kiss. “I’m sorry about last night,” Harry gazes mournfully at Louis when they pull apart. He owes another bigger apology, but there’s too much to be said for them to have that conversation right now.

“I need you. Now,” Louis sounds desperate as he gazes into Harry’s soul, forgiving him without saying the actual words.

Feeling a little desperation of his own, Harry reaches for a condom and lube while Louis ghosts his finger over the anchor tattoo. His rope tattoo almost on top of it, aligned the way they planned it.

“I didn’t…with anyone else,” Louis grabs the condom.

“I didn’t either. I wouldn’t ever, but are you sure?” Harry desperately hopes Louis is sure, but he’d more than understand if his husband isn't ready to take that trusting step again just yet.

“I’m sure,” Louis lets the condom fall to the floor before he starts tracing a reverent path over Harry’s chest and stomach. “Did I say yet how much I missed touching you?" he stops to rest his hand over Harry’s heart.

“Then don’t stop,” Harry demands against Louis’ lips.

Louis moves his hands to continue the sweet exploration on Harry’s back. He takes his time covering every inch of skin before moving back up to runs his fingers through Harry's hair. "Your hair is so long now."

"You want me to cut it?" Harry asks, willing to go bald if Louis wants him to.

"Don't you dare," Louis demands, then yanks on one of the long curls and Harry moans his appreciation for the slight roughness.

He does his own slow search of his husband’s mouth, and by the time they reach fever pitch again, his hand is shaking so bad he can barely manage to open the lube. Like always, Louis steps in to help him. It's a partnership, and he twists off the cap before coating Harry’s long fingers.

“Any time before morning, Haz,” Louis demands sarcastically, then lifts up to bite Harry’s chin when he just stares at his lubed fingers a few seconds too long.

“I’ll make you regret that,” Harry warns as he spreads Louis’ legs wider.

Louis’ _I hope so_ changes to a pleading _Don’t tease_ when Harry starts out by moving his finger intentionally slow. Harry’s only concession is to add another finger. He’s determined to make Louis pay for the bite by going as slow as possible, but he can only take so much of Louis moaning and writhing beneath him.

Because of last night he doesn’t need as much prep, but as remorseful as Harry is, he’s just as eager when Louis starts begging for more than his fingers. So eager he’s trembling with need, but when he goes to comply with the fervent pleas Louis puts his hand o.

“Lie down," Louis’ eyes are hooded, but the intent in them is clear.

Harry hurries to comply. He knows what's coming, and he refuses to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not when it’s much more gratifying to lick into the gift horse’s mouth.

Louis returns the kiss with equal thirst, managing to straddle Harry at the same time. He sits up to reach behind his back and Harry holds his breath while Louis lines their bodies up. His eyes are closed as he guides Harry inside of him, he’s biting his bottom lip and the satisfied moan he makes when he’s totally seated is responsible for Harry’s responding thrust.

“Fuck, Louis.”

Louis opens his eyes and his lips lift in the tiniest smirk before he bends down to feast on the skin on Harry’s neck. When he’s done he moves to Harry’s very sensitive nipples, licking and biting enough to leave them erect for days. Just the way Harry loves.

Louis only stops when Harry can’t stay still any longer and he begins moving his hips erratically.

“Shhh,” Louis sits up to adjust, and Harry obeys the quiet order. He’s rewarded when Louis lifts up and sinks back down. He loses all awareness of time and reality when Louis repeats the move.

“I’m…,” Harry tries, but forgets his train if thought when Louis lifts up and seats himself again. The tight silkiness around him is all Harry can focus on, but it’s okay because Louis gets it. He always does.

“I know,” he whispers before setting a tempo that has Harry gripping the muscular thighs glued to his sides. When that’s not enough, his hands travel to Louis’ hips where he helps set an even faster pace.

Harry lifts his head at the same time Louis throws his back. Harry's heart stutters because this is the Louis who abandons everything and allows the pleasure take over. His expression is a mixture of bliss and pain, and the low sounds he's not trying to hold back send Harry closer to exploding.

"You fucking let me leave!" he cries, all of a sudden overwhelmed with so much love his heart feels close to bursting.

"You fucking left," Louis' words aren't as harsh. He sounds more broken and raw. Then like he senses Harry’s need to take over, Louis stops moving and they watch each other through tortured eyes as Harry begins to move with jerky precision. It's not long before he's hitting Louis' prostate over and over again. One time in particular causes him to let out a long and wrecked moan.

Harry loses the battle first. Tiny vibrations begin spreading over his body and after that all it takes is three hard thrusts. “Fuck, Louis!” The words and the loud noises he makes following them rip from his throat.

Louis slaps a hand over Harry’s mouth, but he’s powerless to stop the tormented sounds. They keep coming, but even in the clutches of his orgasm, he doesn’t forget his husband. Even with the hand over his mouth and his vision distorted, Harry reaches in between their bodies.

Louis arches his back to give him room to move his hand and the rapid back and forth has him moaning again. “Faster,” he orders, moving his hips opposite the motion of Harry’s hand, but instead of complying Harry presses a finger against the slit on the swollen and leaking head of Louis' cock. Seconds later he feels the telling pulsations right before Louis comes all over his hand.

“Haz,” Louis buries his face in Harry’s sweaty neck until the uncontrollable spasms stop rocking his body.

By the time his body goes lax Harry’s experiencing his own spineless euphoria. “Please don’t regret that. Please,” he begs, unable to stomach the thought of getting it wrong twice. This time especially.

“I don’t,” Louis buries his head deeper against Harry’s heated skin. "I couldn't."

Relieved, Harry caresses Louis’ damp back with his clean hand, and they lay in the quietness until the stickiness between them and on Harry’s other hand becomes too gross to ignore.

Louis moves first, lifting off Harry with care before falling onto his back. Apparently with no intent to move any further, but Harry’s more than willing to help him out. It won’t be the first time.

He gives Louis a tender kiss that he returns sleepily and because he wants Louis to sleep through the night, Harry hurries to the bathroom, coming back out a few minutes later with a warm cloth.

“Thanks,” Louis mumbles his appreciation while Harry does a semi thorough job of cleaning him up. He helps out a little by flipping over to give Harry access to his backside, and this time whatever he mumbles is indiscernible.

“You’re welcome,” Harry smiles fondly and when he comes out of the bathroom a second time Louis is still on his side. Not folded in a ball like the night before, but stretched out and relaxed. He looks content and it's absolutely lovely.

The last time Harry felt so relieved was the day they got the news Karen was no longer in danger of miscarrying Cameron.

Going to the guest room is not even an option tonight and Harry climbs in behind his sleeping husband. He’s about to press their bodies together when he looks at Louis' bare back, and all he can see are the welts and blisters. Of course there aren’t any, but he runs his fingertips over the smooth skin anyway, imagining he’s erasing every single wound with his touch. He follows his fingers with his mouth.

“Exactly how much did Niall tell you?” Louis asks softly, and although Harry can tell he’s more sleep than awake, he still hears the lack of censure or anger. There’s only a quiet and amused acceptance in Louis' words.

Harry can’t let the milestone pass without some kind of acknowledgement. “I love you, Louis. I never stopped, not for a single second,” he whispers, but the weighted breathing of someone sound asleep is his only response.

He’s content with that because Louis getting more sleep is more important than any kind of acknowledgement right now. There’s definitely a long conversation in their near future, but right now sleep. And more sleep.

Maybe for Harry too if he tries hard enough, but just as he shuts his eyes a noise comes from the direction of the nightstand, and for a brief second he’s disoriented. He thinks it’s an alarm that sounds like a baby’s cry. Reality hits him when the sound happens again and he realizes the sound is coming from the monitor. It’s not a full blown cry, but Isabel’s definitely not happy and she’s definitely not asleep.

Where Harry was just filled with hope fear takes its place. “Lou,” he whispers, but Louis doesn’t budge.

Harry feels a twinge of guilt because Louis must be exhausted to sleep through the fussing noises, but…

“Louis,” he tries a second time, this time a little more urgently. He’s come a long way in the past two days, but he hasn’t come far enough to face the little girl he walked away from. Not yet and definitely not alone.

Harry reaches out to give Louis a gentle nudge, but his hand pauses in midair.

He’s an adult. A thirty two year old adult who’s done more midnight feedings and changed more of Cameron's nappies than he’ll ever be able to count. Doing either of those for Isabel can’t be much different. It’s not that complicated.

"Then why is my hand shaking?" Harry whispers to himself, silently willing his pulse to stop beating so blasted fast, and despite his body’s physical reaction he slides out of the bed as quietly as he can, quickly throwing his discarded clothes back on. He picks up the headband from the floor where Louis dropped it and Harry looks back one more time to make sure he didn’t disturb Louis before he slips out of the room. He has no idea where to go, but his first guess is the same room they used for Cameron’s nursery. On the short walk he pulls his hair back with an elastic band. He remembers how his son got pleasure out of yanking his hair and it wasn’t nearly as long back then.

Harry hears the fussing before he opens the door, and a soft glow from the lamp on the bedside table makes it possible for him to walk directly over to the infant's cot. When Cameron was a year old they discovered he slept better with a small amount of light. It looks like Louis is doing the same for Isabel, but the little trick doesn't seem to be working tonight.

Harry bends over the padded side railing to look down at the fidgeting baby who at the moment is making frustrated kicking motions. Isa is also doing a convincing job of nibbling on her folded fingers, but when she notices Harry for the first time, her face lights up with a smile and the kicks become a little more determined.

The smile takes Harry’s breath away. Isabel’s actually smiling at him. And not just any smile. It’s a real you’re my hero for coming to rescue me smile.

Harry’s absolutely captivated. He stares so long Isabel stops smiling, but on instinct he reaches in to lift her before she can let out the cry matching the expression on her face.

Right away he has to ignore how right the small body feels against his chest and the way Isa's face immediately seeks out the curve of his neck. The baby fine hair feathering against the underside of his jaw, and little sounds of contentment are a little harder to overlook, but it doesn’t stop Harry from making the effort.

“Someone doesn’t like a wet nappy,” Harry whispers after running a hand over Isabel's backside.

From there all it takes is shedding a little more light in the room and walking over to the changing table. Not complicated in the least, except Isabel does that smiling thing again when Harry lays her on the changing pad.

Harry thinks he’s the last person deserving of the sweet smiles. Isa should be crying if anything. There’s a literal stranger attempting to change her diaper after all.

“Okay, I really need you to hold still. Can you do that for me, baby girl?”

The softly spoken instructions and the question go unheeded. Isabel continues moving and kicking happily, but despite the interruptions Harry has the diaper changed and the closures on the pink onesie done up again in less than five minutes.

“All better now,” Harry soothes when he lifts the six month old back into his arms. “Ready for beddy-bye?” he asks, standing in the same spot, bouncing Isa up and down like he saw Louis do, and now that his attention isn’t solely focused on Isa, he can see the nursery a lot better with the added light.

Now the room is painted a pale peach colour instead of the blues and yellows it was when it was Camron's nursery. On the wall directly behind the crib someone painted a huge brown tree that runs from the floor to the ceiling and almost covers the entire wall. It has pink and white flower buds on the branches, some painted to look like they’re floating away in the wind to scatter on the other walls along with the brown birds that match the colour of the tree. The cot bedding, the throw rug, and the lamp shade match the art on the wall perfectly so they have to be custom made. The padding on the changing station is the same peach hue as the walls and the throw on the back of the rocker. The same rocker they used for their son.

Harry wouldn’t have done a single thing differently. The nursery’s perfect for the beautiful little girl in his arms. The little girl who’s a lot calmer now that she's dry, but that doesn’t stop her from tensing up when Harry goes to lay her back in the crib. This time he’s not fast enough and Isabel gets out a short cry before he can stand upright again.

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” Harry whispers, worried she’ll wake Louis. More importantly, he can admit that he’s not quite ready to let Isabel go. How can he be when she fits in his arms like she’s meant to be there.

With that thought in mind, Harry walks over to the plush rocker, sitting in the familiar seat before starting the rocking motion that’s almost a guarantee to put Isabel back to sleep. That’s if she can get comfortable.

Isabel starts out by trying to climb up Harry’s chest and he attempts to soothe her by rubbing her back. She smells like a baby, warm and powdery and all kinds of wonderful. It brings back so many memories of holding Cameron at that age and being crazy in love with his scent.

When the climbing’s stops Isa starts moving her head from side to side, like she can’t find the right place to lay it. From experience Harry knows she’s fighting sleep so he starts to sing in the softest voice imaginable.

_Tell me the tales that to me were so dear. Long, long ago. Long, long ago. Sing me the songs I delighted to hear. Long, long ago, long ago."_

For a long time Harry singing the old folk song his dad used to sing to him was the only way they could get Cameron to go to sleep. Harry even made a recording of it for he was away on tour, but tonight he only gets the two verses out before Isabel lifts her head to look at him.

Harry wonder if she's doing it because she’s only used to the sound of Louis' singing. Then again maybe it’s the feel of his unfamiliar chest, but for whatever reason, Isabel just stares. Solemnly, just like she did in the backyard earlier.

“Hi, baby girl,” Harry says, lost in the dark blue eyes that’ll never be an exact match for Louis’, but are still just as striking.

“Gaah ahda,” Isabel brings her tiny hand up to grab Harry’s nose. Still not smiling.

“What was that? Who are you man with the big nose?” Harry playfully interprets the gibberish. He goes to say _I’m Harry_ , but he can’t squeeze the words past his throat because he’s not Harry. Not to his daughter, he’s not.

Isabel doesn’t seem as bothered by the revelation as Harry is. She just watches him until her eyes start drooping. Probably it’s been only a minute at the most, but when her head drops she snaps it back up like she won’t go to sleep without an answer to the question Harry asked.

Ice he didn’t realize was around his heart begins to melt.

The first tear falls. “I’m your dad,” Harry says the words he should’ve said when he first found out about his daughter.

Another tear slides down the side of Harry's face. “You beautiful baby, I’m your dad and I love you very, very much,” he whispers, and as if the words were what she was waiting on, Isabel drops her head to Harry's shoulder after a contented sigh.

Harry can’t hold back an anguished sob. “I’m sorry. My darling girl, I’m so sorry.”

It doesn’t matter if she’s asleep now Harry still needs to tell her, but even as he says the words he realizes how inadequate they are. So he holds his daughter as tight as he can without hurting her. Just feeling her heart beat against his. Smelling her and loving her. He rocks Isabel until the dam building inside of him threatens to burst.

Before it can a tortured sound comes from the doorway and Harry opens his eyes to find Louis standing there with tears pouring down his face.

“Louis,” Harry pleads for something. Anything.

Louis walks over to the rocker and he drops to his knees before placing his hand on top of the one Harry has on Isabel’s back. Instead of soothing him, the gentle touch brings the dam closer to the surface and another sob slips past Harry’s almost locked throat muscles.

The tortured sound disturbs Isa. She starts moving around so Louis stands up to take her. It' no surprise that Isabel settles the instant she’s in Louis' arms and he gives her a gentle kiss before laying her back in the crib.

Harry watches forlornly as Louis rubs Isabel's back and when he can’t sit any longer he moves over to the crib to join in comforting their daughter.

Louis generously moves his hand out of the way to allow him to take over and the telling gesture causes Harry to choke up again because it's a glaring example of how unselfish his husband is. How unselfish he's always been.

When Isabel's deep sleeping again Harry steps out into the hallway while Louis adjusts the lamp setting. He braces against the wall for support, but the second Louis steps out of the room he crashes into him. “Louis, please,” Harry begs, emotion making the words louder than he intends.

“Shhh,” Louis takes Harry's hand to pull him the thirty or so steps it takes to get back to their bedroom, but once they're inside Louis drops Harry’s hand to walk towards the bed. He stops in the middle of the room and he just stands there with his head lowered.

Harry needs his husband to turn around. He needs to see in Louis’ eyes if the pieces of their life are finally coming together or if his world is crashing down around him. For good this time.

“Louis!” The name rips out of his throat in two tortured syllables that could equally qualify as a sob. “She’s mine, isn’t she? She's my daughter.”

“I play that damn song for her every night. I wanted her to know your voice,” Louis confesses then grants Harry his wish.

He turns around, but Han can only see tears and the pain on his face. Pain he inflicted. Pain so raw and unfiltered it leaves Harry even more devastated. “I’m so sorry, Louis.”

The apology sounds just as hollow and empty as it did with Isabel, but Harry thinks maybe it’ll eventually mean something if he keeps saying it.

A moan escapes Louis on a puff of air. His eyes go wide like it took him by surprise and he lifts a hand to his mouth as if he trying to stop another one. Desperate to erase the pain Harry takes one tentative step then another. Maybe Louis takes the next step or maybe they move at the same time, but a few steps later they collide into each other with so much force a loud thud echoes in the room and the second Louis’ arms link around Harry’s neck, a wave of relief so powerful shutters through his body it causes his legs to give out.

Louis never lets go and he ends up on the floor between Harry’s legs. Thankfully he’s not as delicate as Isabel. There’s no danger of breaking Louis and Harry holds him as tight as he can. “I’m so sorry, Louis,” he apologizes again and the words release another wave of emotion that has Louis sobbing more of his heartache in the thin material of Harry’s shirt.

“She’s perfect and she’s ours, She was always ours,” Harry can’t see for the tears pouring from his own eyes, but he can feel. Louis nodding against his chest is all he needs. “I want my family back. I love you and I love our children. So much, Louis, and I want to be with you every day. Be a part of your new life. Get to know your doctor friends better. Take care of Niall with you. Cook with you. Sleep with you. Smell you…,” Harry runs out of words, but Louis lifts his head with so much love shining in his eyes Harry whimpers.

“I kind of thought we were already headed in that direction, but just to be clear. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, and definitely yes.”

“She’s wonderful and I walked away from her. How can you ever forgive me for that?” Harry sniffles.

“The same way you can forgive me for lying to you,” Louis brings a hand up to caress Harry’s jaw.

Harry hears the insecurity in Louis’ voice and he hurries to fix it as he leans into the touch. “I should’ve listened to you. I was just so angry and hurt.”

“You had every right to be,” Louis tries to absolve Harry tenderly, but he doesn’t want to be absolved. “Will you let me explain now?” Louis adds quietly.

“Only if you want to. The only thing important to me right now is you and our family,” Harry says truthfully. He just wants to be in this moment. They can deal with the rest later.

“It almost destroyed us. So yeah, I want to,” Louis responds before attempting to move out of Harry’s arms.

“No, you can talk to me right here,” Harry holds on, unwilling to let go ever again.

“Not going far,” Louis reassures him with tender eyes and Harry reluctantly loosens his arms.

While Louis gets to his knees to grab a handful of tissues from the nightstand Harry notices for the first time how close they are to bed.

“These are for you,” Louis offers him a couple of the tissues. Then instead of moving back in the space between Harry’s legs he sits down on the floor and rests his back on the mattress. He pats the space on the floor beside him and he holds his hand out for Harry's tissues before throwing them in the small bin along with the ones he used.

“Thanks,” Harry presses himself to Louis’ side.

“You were a little attentive to my back earlier. I’m guessing my dad told you quite a bit,” Louis begins, again with no indication of being angry now that his secret is out.

Harry sits up to look at him anyway. He has to be sure. “Are you okay with me knowing?”

“I hope you understand why I didn’t tell you,” Louis returns the look with a little more concern in his eyes.

“Niall tried to explain, but you kept an important part of your childhood hidden from me, Louis. Kind of hard to understand that,” Harry can’t keep the hurt out of his voice.

“I know it doesn't excuse me, but I separated myself from who that little boy was a long time ago. You have to understand that to me he was this great unequalizer. People pitied me because of him. Teachers paid extra attention to me because of him. Kids in my school just wanted to be my friend because they felt sorry for that little boy. When I was in third form Niall and Bella moved to Chelsea, and it was the best thing to ever happen to me. Here I was just that weird acting Tomlinson kid or Niall and Bella Horan’s adopted son. I wasn’t the poor little boy who was abused in foster care after his alcoholic mum abandoned him. When I started competing he was just a bad memory and by the time I developed a fan base that part of my history was long forgotten, not that anyone cared to look. They were only interested in the arsehole who gave no shits, but that was fine with me because I was there to compete, not make friends,” Louis takes a deep breath and he links his fingers with Harry’s. “Then you happened.”

“You say that like it was a bad thing,” Harry teases.

“It was, in the beginning at least. I never had a desire to have close a friend, let alone deal with the kinds of feelings you made me feel. So when you started asking me out I pretended I wasn’t interested. Or gay, but that lasted for how long?” Louis asks, smiling wryly.

“Until I reminded you of that one time you told an interviewer he might want to change genders when he asked you about the kind of girls you liked. I couldn’t believe you said that on broadcast television,” Harry smiles at the memory. He sat watching the interview frustrated because he just wanted them to get back to the competition. As a result he was only half listening when the interviewer asked the boring question, but Louis’ answer got his full attention. It was a profound moment for a thirteen year old just getting comfortable with his bisexuality.

“I was only fifteen, wasn’t like I was trying to change the world. I said it because it was the truth, but it was brushed it off as a joke afterwards. Then it was quickly forgotten about.”

“It wasn’t a joke to me,” Harry says seriously. He definitely didn’t forget about it. That tiny blip in sports history helped him come out to his parents.

“I didn’t know that. You bringing up that interview just proved to me that you were looking for your next screw, but no matter how much you made my heart flutter I didn’t want to be just one more quick fuck for you. I didn’t even think you were serious about skateboarding at the time.”

“Why did you finally give in?” Harry asks, already knowing the answer.

Louis still tried to deny his sexuality despite the evidence Harry presented, but he couldn’t deny returning the passionate kiss after Harry backed him up against a wall. A week and several heated kisses later Louis agreed to go to the movies.

“Because you kissed me, and my dick got hard. Oh, and don’t forget you made my heart flutter,” Louis laughs, expertly repeating the words Harry wants whispered to him on his death bed. “It’s funny, no one really cared about my sexuality until we came out as a couple. Afterwards, apparently everybody and their cousins already knew I was gay,” he brushes over the fact that they were actually outed after month they officially put a title on their relationship.

All the fuss was weird because Louis and Harry were never in the closet. It was more of a case of them competing most of the times they were in the spotlight. Which weren't exactly the right occasions to broadcast their relationship. The decision was taken out of their hands altogether when a still unknown person snapped a very clear picture of them kissing outside of a restaurant, and sold the picture to a tabloid.

“That was a rough time, yeah?” Harry tightens his grip on Louis hand. They were so young and naïve. It never occurred to them that anyone would be interested in their relationship. They found out pretty fast how wrong they were. 

“Not really. Sure, I hated the invasive questions and being followed by reporters trying to get the first interview, but I didn’t have anything to hide. We were never a secret, and we weren’t exactly the only non-straight professional skateboarders. You can attest to that, can’t you? ”

“Hey, it wasn’t that many. Two or three at the most,” Harry's not surprised by the dig. Louis has never been afraid to let his jealousy show. It's why Harry only half told the truth. If he included the girls he slept with on tour the number of people he slept with before he met Louis would be considerably higher.

“That was two or three more than I ever needed to be reminded about,” Louis responds in his usual catty fashion. “Seriously everyone was great. All of our sponsors were supportive of us. Our parents were amazing, not that it caught them by surprise, and you were a rock, Harry. I was amazed at how unfazed you were, and you were only seventeen at that.”

“That’s because I was too busy living in a world of awe that you were actually my boyfriend. I knew how much my reputation scared you,” Harry responds.

“It did scare me, but you were just too charming,” Louis lifts their joined hands to his mouth and his eyes roam lovingly over Harry’s face while he places a reverent kiss on the back of his hand.

“Took you long enough to realize it,” Harry replaces his hand with his mouth and the kiss they share is gentle and searching. It's exactly what they need and when they pull apart Harry slides down to lay his head in Louis’ lap.

“I realized it. Just couldn’t do the sleeping around thing,” Louis speaks quietly. "I didn't know how to."

“That was all I knew until you. It's all I wanted to know,” Harry says with regret. Knowing everything that he knows now, he’s even more amazed Louis gave him a chance. With all the factors in place they never should have happened, but on the day they got married Bella whispered in Harry's ear that it had to fate. All these years later he’s beginning to believe it actually might have been.

“You were young and experimenting. It was allowed,” Louis offers a rare moment of understanding.

“I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t met you,” Harry thinks it's a real possibility that he’d still be sleeping around, or moving from one unfulfilling relationship to another. Maybe he would've even found some semblance of happiness with someone else. There's no way to know for sure, but the one thing Harry is certain about is that falling in love with Louis was too instant, and too consuming for it to be anything other than a once in a lifetime thing.

“You made me want things l never wanted before and when you asked me to marry you skateboarding stopped being my priority,” Louis lifts his hand like he’s about to untangle his fingers from Harry’s hair, but Harry places own hand on top it to stop him. He needs the contact.

“You never said anything, but I could tell how disappointed you were when I retired,” Louis continues.

“I called you selfish, but I'm the selfish one. I didn’t understand how you could give it up so easy. You thrived on competing. Win or lose, I’ve never come across anyone who loved the sport as much as you. I couldn’t help thinking one day it might be just as easy for you to walk away from me, and for seven years I judged you wrongly for it.”

“Haz, I was almost twenty seven with a two year old we had to drag from competition to competition or leave him for weeks at a time. For me that was worse and I just didn’t want to do it anymore. Spending time with you was the only reason I stayed in as long as I did. I was totally honest when I told you the fire I needed to compete was gone. I had won every major competition on the circuit. Some more than once. We had enough money to last us ten lifetimes. I was just ready to give my all to something else. Marrying you and having our son turned out to be that something else. Despite the rough times I believe they’re still the best decisions I’ve ever made in my life so far.”

“Louis,” Harry sighs, humbled.

“You gave me the life I cherished with everything in me, but when you crashed you almost took it away,” Louis' quiet words cause Harry to tense up.

It’s not intentional, but he knows they’re finally getting to the explanation. “We don’t have to do this now,” Harry breaks in, but Louis ignores him.

“The tournament wasn’t televised or live streamed so I didn’t bother to set the alarm."

While Louis might have lost the desire to compete, he never stopped being Harry’s biggest fan. That included Louis waking up in the middle of the night to watch him compete if he had to. Somehow in all the anger and hurt Harry lost sight of just how supportive Louis was.

“I was still asleep when the phone rang. I thought it was you ringing me to tell me how you faired in the competition. I didn’t bother to look at the number, but the person on the other end asked me if I was your husband. I was a little confused, but I said yes anyway. After that all I remember is hearing something about a serious accident and a head injury. That's when everything really became a blur. I remember Niall rushing into the room, but I still don’t recall crying out for him. At the time I didn’t even remember why he was here. ”

"Yeah," Harry says sympathetically. Without Isabel there with him, sometimes Niall’s house got too big for him. The night of Harry's accident happened to be one of the rare occasions he gave in and stayed with Louis. Despite hating the reason behind it, Harry’s forever grateful that Louis and Cam weren’t alone that night.

“It took my dad and I more than fourteen hours to get to you and when we got there you had just come out of a five hour operation. They wouldn’t let me see you in recovery, but the doctors had no problem bombarding me with medical jargon I had no way of understanding. Serious hematoma to the left side of the brain, a GCS score of seven, multiple complex fractures. All I could think about was getting to you, not listen to strangers talk to me like I had attended medical school with them.”

“I’m so sorry, babe,” Harry pictures how he would’ve reacted if their roles had been reversed, and it’s almost unbearable to even think about.

“Finally they let us in the ICU to see you,” Louis ignores Harry again, or maybe this time he didn’t hear him. “I don’t know what I expected, but you looking as if you were just sleeping wasn’t it. You were pale and unconscious, but I didn’t see any sign of a head injury. All I saw were the casts on your leg and wrist. I conveniently ignored the ventilator and the other tubes going into your body. I told Niall you were fine. I said the doctors didn’t know what they were talking about, and even after the first twenty four hours passed I was still trying to convince him you just were taking a long nap.”

Louis sounds vulnerable and lost in the memory. It’s killing Harry not to sit up and hold him, but he knows he has to let his husband talk.

“I was aware of the concerned looks I was getting from Niall and the staff, but I didn’t care. I knew you were fine. The reality didn’t sink in until the neurologist told us you were in a coma and that there was sixty forty chance you wouldn’t wake up. You have no idea what that did to me.”

“I think I can imagine,” Harry responds, still picturing himself in Louis’ place.

“No, you can’t. No one can unless they’ve actually been through it. You don’t know what it’s like to feel the walls closing in on you. To try to breathe, but for the life of you can’t. I knew I was close to losing it, and I have no idea why, but the thought of doing it in front of the doctor made it worse. So I ended up in the men’s loo, prepared to take my frustration out in the first available stall, but my legs wouldn’t carry me that far. I don’t know how long I had been in there when Niall found me, but after two days of worrying that I might be losing my mind he took over. My dad sat on those disgusting tiles, telling me that you were a fighter and ordering me not to give up on you. I tried not to, Harry. I really did try to pull it together, but it still felt like everything was slipping away. Like you were slipping away,” Louis stops again to take a shuddering breath.

“I’m so unbelievably sorry you had to go through that,” Harry realizes his attempt at comfort is inadequate so he massages his Louis' left shin because it's all he has right now.

“Niall must’ve have realized I was still barely holding on because he called your mum so I could talk to Cam, and It was the best thing he could’ve done for me. Hearing our son’s voice made me realize I couldn’t fall apart. Cam needed me. Whether you lived, died, or stayed in a coma for the rest of your life, I still had a son depending on me. Sorry if that’s too blunt, but it’s what got me off of the bathroom floor and back into your room,” Louis confesses cautiously.

“It’s not to blunt and I understand, Louis,” Harry reassures him.

“Well I wish I did because after the call all I could think about was how mature Cam sounded. How fast he was growing up and how it wouldn’t be long before he was out of the house. If you died I’d be alone. Before you and Cameron I would’ve been okay with that, but not anymore. My real mum was gone, Bella was gone, I lived with the constant fear that I could lose Niall at any moment. I know I was being irrational, but at the time it was a terrifying feeling that I had no control over.”

“Louis,” Harry thinks he understands now and while it’s not an excuse for the lies, it at least explains why Louis was so desperate for another baby. “Lou,” he moans again and this time he sits up to wrap his arms around his husband.

“Don’t be so quick to feel sorry for me because that’s when I got angry,” Louis continues after he rests his head against Harry’s chest. “After Bella died we discussed having another baby. You promised me we’d go for it when you retired and I wanted to know how you planned on living up to it if you were dead. I waited for years for you to give me the smallest hint that you were ready to stop competing, and when you finally did retire you said you wanted to join the exhibition tour. I was so angry at you, but you made me a promise and I wasn’t about to let you off just because you were in a coma. As long as you were breathing I still had a chance to have another baby with you."

“You never said anything,” Harry accuses, hurt knowing that Louis wanted another baby for years without telling him.

“I never would have,” Louis raises his head from Harry’s chest to search his eyes. “I know what skateboarding means to you. You wouldn’t have joined the exhibition tour two times if you could give it up. It's not like we need the money, is it?”

“I only did it because I didn’t want you to get tired of me being here all the time. Skateboarding has never meant more than you. It doesn't even come close, and I’m sorry if I ever made you think that,” Harry mentally sighs. Right now he’d give his right arm to be able to take the last nine months back.

“You were only twenty one when we got married. Twenty three when we had Cam. You were so young, Harry. I never wanted you to feel like you had to make the same choices as me, and I did everything I could to show you that Cam and I were fine without you here. I never wanted you to get on a plane or enter a competition with that kind of worry hanging over your head. I’m sorry if it translated to me not needing you, because I did and I do. Every second of every day,” Louis declares fervently.

“Don’t make me out to be some wimp you led around by the nose,” Harry says, finally seeing things the way they are, not the way he’s allowed himself to believe for all this time. “I was ready to get married or I wouldn’t have asked you, and I wanted Cameron just as much as you. Maybe even more.”

“I know you did. That tiny fact made it easier for me to justify asking Karen if she'd carry another baby for us,” Louis sits back against the bed so they’re sitting side by side and he grabs Harry’s hand. “The wheels were already turning in my head, but when she called me to get an update on your condition I thought it had to be a sign. That night while I sat in the chair by your bed watching you and waiting on you to wake up I made the decision to go through with it.”

Harry’s wondered more times than he can count how that conversation went. “She must’ve been a little shocked with me still being in a coma.”

“I told her we were seriously discussing adding to our family before the accident. I just left out the part that it was right after Bella died. I played on her sympathy by telling her it was what you wanted. It worked just as I expected it would.”

“When did you have the actual procedure done?” Harry asks because the crash happened in Sacramento. "I doubt Karen flew to the states."

“They removed the ventilator on your third day in the hospital and after monitoring your vitals for two days to make sure you remained stable, we were given the clearance to transfer you as long as qualified medical personnel traveled with us. That was easily arranged and the next day we flew back to London on a private plane. The following day I left while your family visited you to do my part. Karen went in a few hours after me,” Louis shrugs. “Two days later you woke up.”

“Is that why you were so detached when I came out of the coma?” Harry feels like the final pieces of the puzzle are finally falling into place and a welcome peace starts to settle over him.

“I was staring out of the window in your hospital room feeling so lost. When I turned around you were staring at me. After nine torturous days you were just looking at me with a confused smile on your face. I wanted to scream at you for putting me through that and I wanted to jump for joy that I had my husband back. Instead of doing either I alerted the nurses and by the time they finished examining you I knew that I had made a colossal mistake. I spent the next three weeks praying Karen wasn’t pregnant and praying she was. It was literally all I could think about.”

“I didn't think it had anything to do with the accident. All this time I've believed you made the plans behind my back and that you didn’t let something like me almost dying interfere with them. Why didn’t you just tell me, Louis?” Harry asks sadly.

“You were still in the hospital when we found out the procedure took. Forgive me, but I didn’t think that was a good time to tell you we were going to have another child. I waited until you were home for two weeks before I broached the subject, but you flat out refused to even consider it. You had never been so inflexible, and the more you refused the more frightened I was to tell you the truth. I thought after almost losing you to the accident I was going to end up losing you anyway. I didn’t think I could endure that. Not when everything was still so fresh in my mind, and before I knew it Karen was six months pregnant. I know its flimsy at best, but that’s it. I was scared to be alone and angry at you for putting me in the position in the first place.”

“I was terrified too, Louis. The scare we had with Cameron before his birth, the crash, the shock of losing Bella so suddenly. It was too much for me, but I never should’ve walked away,” Harry says, squeezing Louis’ hand.

“Yes, you should have. Although maybe for nine hours instead of nine months,” Louis sounds teasing, but Harry’s not ready. Not yet.

“I’ve been thinking about why I was able to stay away for so long and I think me being on tour so much made it easier than it should’ve been. Added up I was away at least half the year, sometimes more. I was hardly ever here Louis,” he pauses, trying to put into words something he’s given so much thought to.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” Louis asks impatiently, looking down at their joined hands then up at Harry when he doesn’t answer. “Haz?”

“I’m retiring. The official announcement is coming sometime after New Year’s, but I’m already off the tour. Actually, I haven’t skated since the crash. My sponsors asked me to show up at a few events until I was a hundred percent certain I was done. I was planning on telling you that day,” Harry knows he doesn't have to spell out what day he's referring to.

“I really messed up, didn't I?” Louis sounds afraid, but hopeful as he absently traces the long scar through Harry’s pajamas. "I thought you weren't skateboarding because of your leg.

“My leg’s fine. I’m just done. I’ve been giving serious thought to opening up a youth center here in Chelsea, and Adidas has offered me a similar deal to the one they offered you when you retired."

"What deal?" Louis asks with confusion in his eyes.

When he left that professional side of skateboarding behind he turned down every other offer to come his way. There were so many he forgot some apparently.

"To develop a line of clothing for skateboarders, and if I agree it’s something I can do from home. It's something we both could do together. That’s if you don’t mind having your husband underfoot for three hundred sixty five days out of the year?” Harry finishes and his heart drops when Louis lets go of his hand. He thinks it’s entirely plausible that Louis got used to him being away so much and now he likes it that way.

Then again maybe not.

Louis crawls to his knees before straddling Harry’s thighs. “I hope this answers your ridiculous question. And for the record, every single time you left to go back on tour I died a little on the inside,” he admonishes before covering Harry’s full lips with desperation.

Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ middle to pull him closer, opening his mouth when the kiss deepens and when they pull apart he rests his head against Louis’ heart. “We’ve both been idiots,” he muses out loud. “Don’t know how we managed to keep this marriage thing going for so long.”

“Just because we’re idiots doesn’t’ mean we’re incapable of loving each other and I do love you,” Louis says with a mixture of reverence and resignation.

“I love you too. I never stopped,” Harry thinks the rhythm of Louis’ heartbeat could put him to sleep, but just as quick another thought brings instant alertness. “Do you remember where I took you on our second date?”

“I wasn’t exactly an expert on dating, but even I knew a playground was an unusual destination for a second date. Or any date come to think of it.”

“You enjoyed it. Admit it,” Harry demands, knowing the other side of the story. It took him thirty minutes just to pull Louis away from the swings and that was after they’d already been on them for over an hour.

“I loved it and the hundreds of dates that we’ve had since,” Louis puts salve on the wound and Harry eats it up.

“Then you remember what I told you on the way back to the car.”

“Said you wanted to suck me off so bad your balls were hurting. You had such a way with words,” Louis teases.

“You know that’s not it,” Harry bites Louis’ nipple through the fabric and he laughs when Louis retaliates by pulling his hair.

“Then I guess you mean the part where you said you were in love with me and it was probably going to be forever.”

“You punched me on the arm and said, _"Harry Styles, that has to be the most embarrassing attempt anyone has ever used to get inside my pants,_ ” Harry sounds just as offended now as he was then. “Did you really have to shout? I was walking right next to you.”

“It was only our second date, mate. What did you expect?” Louis asks incredibly.

“I expected you to believe me,and I was hoping you felt the same,” Harry lifts his head to get in Louis’ face. “I still do, you know?”

“You still do what?” Louis asks, loving Harry with his eyes.

“Want to suck you off so bad my balls hurt,” Harry smirks.

Louis punches him on the same arm he did all those years ago only not as hard. “Still awful, but I’m way easier than I was back then. Feel free to suck me off anytime you want,” Louis kids, but not really kidding at all. “I hear from my teacher that I’m a pretty good sucker offer myself.”

“Terrible at language, but to your point I’d say you're a right expert,” Harry agrees, smiling. "Getting goose bumps just thinking about it," he wiggles his eyebrows, and Louis laughs out loud, and besides his children Harry's never seen anything more beautiful. “I love you, and sixteen years later I still say its forever. Do you believe me now?”

“I don’t know, Harold. Ask me again in thirty years,” Louis fonds.

“Going soft on me, are you? Why not in fifty or sixty years?” Harry asks, teasingly, but when Louis’ eyes go soft it’s only natural to lean in and seal the question slash promise with a sweet kiss. “Louis William Tomlinson, will you go on date with me right now?” he asks when they separate.

“Now?” Louis caresses Harry’s jaw adoringly. “You do know it’s past one in the morning on Christmas day?”

“Yes now, and yes I know. Just throw on some trainers and come with me. I’ll make sure we’re up in plenty of time before Cam,” Harry promises before he lifts Louis off of him. He uses the bed as leverage to get up from the floor before offering his hand to Louis. It doesn’t occur to Harry to go to the guest room to get a pair of trainers until he’s standing in the middle of his and Louis’ huge closet looking at the clothes and shoes he left behind. Just the way he left them.

“You okay?” Louis looks at Harry with concern on his face.

Harry instinctively grabs his hand. “You didn’t get rid of my things.”

“I never stopped hoping,” Louis sighs before resting his head on Harry’s arm.

“Then why the divorce papers?” Harry thought the actual separation was excruciating, but he experienced a whole new level of pain the day he received the papers.

“I needed to know if you had given up. I knew it was really over if you signed them. I knew all the waiting and hoping in the world wouldn’t be enough to bring you back.”

“I couldn’t sign them,” Harry responds emotionally, and before bending to place a kiss on Louis’ temple.

“Good for me,” Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s waist, squeezing him tight.

“So, let’s get this date rolling,” Harry almost drags Louis back in his arms when he moves away, but the date is more pressing.

“Tell me where we’re going,” Louis demands with excitement in his eyes after Harry walks out of the closet behind him. “We don’t need trainers for tea and we can’t leave the house with Cam and Isa here. So where are taking me?” he really looks puzzled when he turns around after grabbing the Isabel's monitor.

Harry latches onto Louis’ hand to lead him out of the bedroom. He can’t believe his husband hasn’t figured it out.

“To ride the wind. Where else?”

∞∞∞

“Dad. Dad,” Harry feels the finger poking his arm before his sense of hearing actually kicks in, and he struggles to open one eye.

“Dad,” the voice is a little more impatient.

It causes most of the fog to lift and Harry opens both eyes. “Cam? What time is it?” he asks, his vision clear enough to take in the huge smile lighting up his son’s face then on down the spider web on his chest.

They really have to work on convincing their son to throw that particular pair of jim-jams away.

“Six thirty,” Cameron supplies the time, and Harry groans.

It was well past two when he and Louis finally made their way from the backyard. Initially, Harry planned on going up on the ramp with Louis, but he changed his mind the second Louis stepped up on the deck.

Instead Harry sat on the cold grass with tears falling freely as he watched his husband soar through the air. Louis was made for skateboarding and the thought that he almost took that joy away from his husband is still hard for Harry to even think about.

Understandably Louis and Harry were both emotional and a little red rimmed around the eyes when they came back inside the house. Still, Louis had the presence of mind to shush Harry when they stopped to look in on Cameron then Isabel. Harry was a snotty mess, and because he needed it they stayed just a little longer in the nursery. Wrapped up in each other's arms watching their daughter sleep.

Afterwards Louis rewarded Harry with an A plus reintroduction to shower sex and they barely managed to put on clean pajamas before falling into an exhausted sleep.

“I just wanted to tell you I took Jack Jr. out for his morning walk,” Cameron continues, alarming Harry in the process. The neighborhood they live in is gated and secluded, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

“That’s great buddy, but next time tell Daddy or me before you leave the house, okay.”

“I went to your room first. When I saw you weren’t there and the bed already made up I thought you were downstairs,” Cameron trails off, still smiling big and at last Harry gets why.

He’s lying on his side and Louis is spooned against his back with his arm slung over his waist. Sometime during the night they must have turned because their positions were reversed when they fell asleep.

“You’re home for good, aren’t you?” Cameron speaks up before Harry can explain.

“Yeah, I am,” Harry lifts the heavy duvet and holds his arms out. “Merry Christmas, buddy,” he whispers against Cameron’s curls after he climbs in.

“Merry Christmas, dad. I love you,” Cameron responds into Harry chest.

“I love you too and I need you to forgive me for the last nine months. I made a huge mistake and I'm so sorry,” Harry has a lot of apologies to make, but the ones to his husband and children are the most important.

Cameron on the other hand is more intent on bragging. “I knew I was right. I told you, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did,” Harry answers lovingly. “What do you say we let daddy sleep a little longer, but if he’s not up in half an hour we’ll wake him. It is Christmas morning after all.”

“Too late, and I’m feeling very left out over here. Can we have a little cuddle, please?” Louis speaks up from behind them.

“Daddy!” Cameron yelps then ignores the fact that bodies are capable of bruising as he roughly climbs over Harry to get to Louis. “Merry Christmas,” he adds when he’s wrapped tightly in Louis arms.

“Merry Christmas, Cam,” Louis responds adoringly.

“Morning,” Harry says when he turns over to find Louis already staring at him. Sappy idiot that he is tears spring to Harry's eyes because there are no words o describe how much he loves his husband.

“I told you too, didn’t I?” Cameron repeats his question preventing Louis from answering Harry. Instead he gets a suggestive eyebrow wiggle followed by a look of tender understanding. It's enough.

“Seems you did,” Louis smiles down at his glowing son.

“I think you’re the smartest boy in all of Chelsea,” Harry teases, but Louis one ups him.

“In all of England.”

“In all of the world,” Cameron bests both of them, spreading his arms for added effect and that sets off a debate between Cameron and Louis over who's the second smartest person in the world.

“I’ll be right back,” Harry gets up from the bed to go to the bathroom, leaving Louis to listen to a barrage of reasons as to why Samantha ties with Cameron as the smartest person on the planet.

Harry's still smiling while he takes a wee, but when he comes out, planning to add his voice to the debate Cameron’s nowhere in sight.

“Good morning, _“Mr. I’ll make sure we’re up on time”_ , Louis responds sleepily before sitting up in the bed and stretching seductively. Well to Harry it’s seductive. To someone else it might look like he’s having a small seizure.

“What can I say, my husband has mad skills. Even more powerful than jetlag he is,” Harry teases, walking over to give Louis a hand, the gold band that’s been back on his finger since last night briefly snaring his attention.

Harry’s not willing to break the contact once Louis is on his feet and he moves behind his husband to hug him while he slides his slippers on. “Where’s our son?”

“Waiting downstairs with Jack Jr.,” Louis sighs, sinking against Harry’s front. “I still have to take a piss and brush my teeth.”

“I think they’ll wait long for me to tell you how much I love you. Didn’t tell you that enough last night,” Harry mumbles against his ear.

“You did, and I love you too,” Louis angles his head to offer Harry a chaste kiss that turns into a slow exploration and it lasts until an unhappy cry interrupts them.

“I’ll get her,” Harry offers.

“Will I ever get to hold my daughter again?” Louis asks indulgently.

“Our daughter, and I have a lot of time to make up for,” Harry answers, guilt and uncertainty still eating him up. “I won’t ever be able to, will I?”

“Isa’s only six months old, Haz, and she already knows your voice. Now you just have to love her unconditionally and you have to be there for her no matter what. If that’s not enough I have an embarrassingly amount of pictures and videos of _our daughter_ that I can share with you.”

“I’d love that,” Harry turns Louis in his arms, hating the trace of pain in his eyes. “I don’t deserve you,” he bends to kiss his husband, but another soft cry stops him.

“She’s hungry and she’ll probably need changing,” Louis caresses Harry’s jaw, tenderness replacing the pain in his eyes.

“You forget I’m a pro at this, plus I changed her last night. Girl wee, boy wee. What’s the difference?” Harry informs him.

“Wait until you smell girl poo. Don’t quite remember Cameron’s being that potent,” Louis wrinkles his nose and plants a kiss on Harry's cheek before heading towards the bathroom. “When I’m done I’ll grab a jar of Isa's food then Cam and I will meet you in front of the tree.”

“See you there,” Harry moves towards the door, but he can’t resist smacking his husband’s firm bottom when they turn in opposite directions.

∞∞∞

Harry sits the monitor and the cup of tea on the table as quietly as he can, trying not to disturb his sleeping husband.

When Harry came downstairs after putting Isabel back in her crib, Louis was knocked out on the sofa in the family room. That was over an hour ago, and in that time Harry’s put the roast on, cut up the carrots and potatoes, and made Louis a cup of tea. The mess they left in the main room can wait til later.

After last night Harry’s pretty sure he’ll sleep tonight, probably even better. Still, he’s not about to test it by napping now, but he's like nothing better than to lay beside Louis, and doze with him.

There's nothing stopping Harry from sitting down, but when he moves to do it, Louis reaches out to clutch his hand.

“Hi,” Harry smiles down at his beautiful husband, slotting their fingers together with just enough pressure for the bones in his to hurt, but it’s a good hurt.

“Where do you think you’re going? Louis asks sleepily, returning the pressure. He said something earlier about shaving, but Harry likes the scruff. Maybe he can think of a way to convince Louis to leave the light beard.

“Nowhere in particular,” Harry fibs, but only a little. He was actually about to sit at his husband’s feet and watch him until he woke up. Or until it was time to add the potatoes and carrots to the roast. Whichever came first.

“Join me then,” Louis slides back to make room.

“Try to stop me,” Harry steps out of his loafers before positioning himself in front of Louis. He props up on one hand and when he's comfortable he rests his other hand on Louis’ hip.

“Thanks for my gift. Isa also thanks you for hers. I'm sure of it,” Louis breathes before leaning in for a brief kiss. “The necklace is beautiful, and I can’t wait to see her wear it.”

“I can’t wait to put it on her,” Harry pulls the thoughtful man he married in for a more satisfying kiss. "Thanks for the hat. I love it."

Louis was right about the potent poo and when Harry finally walked in the living room with a much better smelling Isabel, Louis and Cameron were already waiting in front of the tree. The look on Cameron’s face when he saw his sister in Harry’s arms was enough to make both his parents tear up, but after he started boasting about getting that right too it didn’t take long for them to start rolling their eyes.

A few minutes later Harry reluctantly handed their daughter over for Louis to feed her while Cameron opened his gifts. Then they watched with pleasure and a little bit of concern while their nine year old jumped and screamed all over the room after opening the custom made skateboard from Harry and the new controllers from Louis. Even Jack Jr.’s ears perked up at the commotion.

When Cameron calmed down enough to finish opening the rest of his gifts Louis suggested he open Isabel’s gifts too, and to neither of is parents surprise Cameron did it with the same amount of enthusiasm he had when he opened his. Harry was shocked when Cameron gave him two boxes, one from him and the other from Louis. Actually, both boxes were from Louis because the chances are slim that a nine year old is going to pick out a Michael Kors shirt on his own. One with pink flamingos all over it at that, but Cameron watched him open the box with so much excitement Harry figured he must have at least had a hand in picking it out, and it made his heart swell with gratitude.

He was equally touched when he opened the box from Louis. It had an outrageously expensive camel coloured fedora in it, and Harry couldn't contain his surprise. He hadn’t been expecting a gift from his husband at all, let alone one he'd love on sight.

His gift to Louis was less extravagant, but Harry knew he made the right decision when Louis started crying after he opened the box with the shredded divorce papers in it. His simple gifts to his daughter was a stocking with her name embroidered on it and a tiny necklace with a sapphire teardrop that he chose because it was a perfect match for her eyes.

“Let me guess, Cam’s still on the phone with Samantha,” Louis halts the kiss and Harry’s reflection of their morning.

“Actually, he’s asleep. I guess getting up so early and all of the other excitement wore him out.”

“I feel horrible for putting him through that,” Louis' voice and eyes are full of remorse.

“I think after this morning you’re forgiven,” Harry reassures him and he knows he’s right.

The excitement of the morning didn’t end after they finished opening the gifts. After a quick breakfast of cereal, Louis suggested Cameron try out his new skateboard. Then he gave their son the best gift of the morning when he put on his gear to go up with him. If Cameron’s smile could have gotten any bigger it would’ve reach his ears.

Harry chose to stand on the sidelines again. He watched his husband and son on the ramp knowing there’d be plenty of time for all three of them to go up together. That time was just for Louis and Cameron to reconnect.

Harry stood watching them with Isabel pressed against his chest, Jack Jr. at his feet, and his new hat on his head. It was everything, and much more than he deserved.

“Do you need help in the kitchen?” Louis asks before snuggling against Harry’s chest, sighing his satisfaction when he's content.

“Not right now, but you can help out with the cake if you want,” Harry has everything under control, but he doesn’t want Louis to feel like he’s trying to take over cooking now that he’s home.

“I’d love to although I’m not any good at desserts,” Louis sounds self-conscious, but Harry can’t fathom why.

“Do you know how amazing you are? Not just teaching yourself how to cook, but with everything, Louis. All you’ve had to overcome…”

Louis shakes his head, stopping Harry from continuing. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me,” he demands.

“I don’t feel sorry for you, but you can’t expect me not to feel compassion. I would feel the same for anybody who went through what you did. You would too, and just look at who you are now. A lot of people in the same position wouldn’t have been so lucky. You didn’t lose yourself to your past, and after everything you went through you would’ve been justified if you had. You have to see how inspirational that is and nothing whatsoever to be ashamed of,” Harry reasons, really upset that he has to tell his husband something he should already know.

“I think you can give my parents all the credit for that,” Louis contends, frustrating Harry even more.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he says emphatically. “There’s no denying Niall and Bella changed your life, but they couldn’t have done it without help from you. You Louis.”

“Say it enough and I might believe you one day,” Louis holds Harry tighter.

Harry wishes he would believe it today, but for now he guesses it’s enough of a concession. Besides he has no issue with reminding his husband how incredible he is every chance he gets. “I love you, Louis Tomlinson.”

“I love you too, Harry Tomlinson,” Louis smiles, sliding his hand up to the back of Harry’s neck.

“Mum called again. She offered to take Cam and Isa for the next week to give us some time alone,” Harry speaks before Louis can pull him down, unaware of the wariness in his voice.

When they came in from the backyard Isabel lasted long enough for them to send a few pictures to Niall and Harry’s parents from Cameron’s new phone. The message they were trying to send was clear in the picture with Harry holding his daughter in one arm and the other wrapped around Louis’ shoulder, Cameron in front of them. By the time they fielded two very emotional phone calls Isabel was out for the count.

“That’s really nice, but I know you’re not ready to let Isa out of your sight,” Louis responds knowingly. "Don't think I want to welcome the New Year without our children anyway."

“Why don’t we give my parents a week over the summer?” Harry offers lightly, breathing a little easier now. He wouldn’t have argued if Louis accepted the offer, but he’s already missed the first six months of his daughter’s life and he’s not ready to miss another minute.

“Fine with me,” Louis consents before moving in closer and putting pressure on the back of Harry’s neck again. “What now? If you haven't guessed I really would like to kiss my husband,” he complains impatiently when Harry resists again.

Harry wants to kiss Louis too, but first he has to get this out of the way. “So Niall and Arithea really get on well, don’t they?” he asks, no innuendo in his voice at all.

Okay, maybe there’s a smidgen. Just enough for Louis to catch on. “I know that tone. What are you trying to imply, Haz?”

“Sorry, but there’s some serious old people sexual tension going on between those two,” Harry confesses eagerly. “I’m telling you, I saw it firsthand,” he adds when Louis rolls his eyes.

“You’re wrong. Not that I’d mind. I actually think it’d be good for my dad. I'm sure Bella would think so too, and I adore Arithea,” Louis counters with amused certainty then politely shudders. “You’re dead wrong this time and thanks for the unnecessary image.”

“Then why don’t you put your money where your mouth is? I bet when we pop in on Niall and Arithea later we catch them in the act of some heavy geriatric snogging,” Harry challenges.

“You’re on, and if they are you better take notes because when we’re in our sixties I expect nothing less from you,” Louis orders.

“I think if we get enough practice I won’t need notes.”

“Fair point. In that case what do I win when I win?” Louis asks arrogantly.

Harry wants to respond just as cynically, but all he can think is that he’s back home where he belongs. He so thankful and so in love with this man that he’s loved since he was sixteen. “I’ll write a book on the meaning of for better and worse, and I’ll read it to you every single day to remind you that I get it now.”

“Haz,” Louis against Harry’s ear.

“I’m serious, Louis. I really get it now, and from this moment on I promise to be the best husband and father I can be. I promise to love you through the good and the bad. I promise to laugh with you, cry with you, have a hundred more children with you if you want. I’ll never let a day go by without telling you how beautiful you are. Without reminding you of what a giving and caring man you are. How absolutely unselfish you are and how blessed our children are to have you as their father,” Harry vows. 

“Did you just marry me again?” Louis asks, the tears in his eyes proving the question’s not a joke.

“Forever this time, and when we’re ready what do you think about looking into fostering?” Harry says emotionally, hoping it’s not too soon to bring the subject up.

“I’d absolutely love that, Harry, and I absolutely love you,” Louis responds before opening his mouth to swallow Harry’s moan and meet his searching tongue.

It's Louis' turn to moan when Harry hooks his leg over his thigh, then uses his bum to bring their bodies even closer together.

“So, Cam should be out for at least another hour,” Louis rasps before latching onto Harry’s neck. He sucks in his breath when Harry slips his hand inside the pajamas to grope his bare bottom.

“I have about ninety minutes before I have to check the roast and Isa still has almost two hours left on her nap. What do you suggest we do with all the free time?” Harry asks, rotating his hips suggestively.

“Stop talking and take this to our bedroom for one,” Louis bites Harry’s shoulder before kissing his way back to Harry's waiting mouth.

Harry dodges him at the last second. “Wait, what do I get if I win?”

With Louis it’s always a tossup. Harry never knows if he’ll get his serious or funny side, but this time he braces himself for an equally emotional speech.

It's a wasted effort.

“Five pounds,” Louis offers nonchalantly.

“You’re on,” Harry laughs out loud and he doesn’t resist when Louis pulls his head down again.

∞∞∞

Louis wins the bet when they walk into Niall’s room a little under four hours later bogged down with food, gifts, and two excited children.

Niall and Arithea are playing cards, not snogging.

Amidst Niall’s false scolding for the surprise visit, him and Arithea opening their gifts, and the nonstop congratulations to the beaming couple on their reconciliation, Louis finds the time to mutter smugly against Harry’s ear, “Did someone say something about writing me a book?”

∞∞∞

A little over three months later, after they drop Cameron off at school, Louis and Harry decide to surprise Niall and Arithea with tea and freshly baked biscuits.

The day before Louis and Harry closed on the property for the _Riding The Wind Skateboarding Academy_ and they can’t wait to celebrate with their first two volunteers.

After the change to his meds Niall’s health improved beyond any of their expectations. He’s in the best shape he’s been in a long time and they all know that besides Liam’s diligence a lot of the credit goes to his caregiver.

“I’ll drop this off in the kitchen,” Louis says before lifting his face to receive the brief kiss Harry’s offering.

Isabel imitates her dad. She leans down to get her own kiss from Louis after her parents pull apart. Like Harry she must not like the thought of being separated from Louis even for the few seconds it’ll take for him to travel to Niall’s kitchen and back.

Since getting back together Louis and Harry have barely spent an hour apart. They know it's going to change, but right now they're both unashamedly a little needy where the other is concerned. Louis even travelled to LA with Harry when he flew over to announce his retirement.

For the week they were gone Harry's mum came down to watch her grandchildren, knowing what a big deal it was.

Before Louis would've never even considered going with Harry while Cam was still in school, but they do things differently now. They trust each other enough be honest and open. They make decisions together and maybe even more importantly they listen to each other now. No more assuming things. Because of the changes their marriage is stronger than it's ever been and if possible Louis and Harry are even more in love with each other.

Harry's become good friends with Liam and Zayn, and he's almost as fond of Sam as her parents are. The unconditional trust Louis has shown him with their daughter humbles Harry on a whole different level. He tries every single day to live up to the blind faith by being the most devoted husband and father that he can be.

Harry really couldn't be more thankful for how amazing his life is right now. "Let's go, my love," he moves in the direction of Niall’s sitting room to get Isa’s out of her lilac coloured sweater, but he frowns when he finds the room empty. Usually Louis’ dad would be reading the morning paper in his favourite chair, but this time he's oddly absent.

When Louis comes in a few minutes later he exchanges a puzzled look with Harry before calling out to Niall first. Then to Arithea.

He gets no response and with concern etched on his face Louis leaves Isabel with Harry while he goes in search of the missing pair

Once he rids Isa of her sweater Harry follows Louis, holding his daughter securely in his arms.

Louis turned out to be off by a month. Isabel started walking at nine months, not eight like he predicted, but with their very active daughter still being a little unsteady on her feet Louis and Harry still carry her when they have to navigate more than one room.

Harry on the other hand was right and he’s nursed quite a few sore spots on his scalp from his daughter’s fascination with his hair. Even when he has it up in the bun she's fascinated. As a result he’s become really good at dodging Isabel's efforts. Which is exactly what he's doing when he walks up on Louis standing in Niall’s bedroom door with a hand over his mouth.

“What is it, babe?” Harry asks, immediately concerned, but when he glances over Louis' shoulder he understands.

Harry's own eyes open in shock and he immediately covers Isa’s eyes. Actually his huge hand covers Isabel's entire face, but the intent is the same. Not that she cares what her granddad and Arithea were probably doing before they fell asleep. She's too busy trying to hold Harry's hand still so she can lick his palm.

Thankfully a sheet spares Louis and Harry a more detailed view of just how undressed Niall and Arithea might be.

After closing the door as softly as he can Louis gives Harry a warning look. “If you dare say anything there’ll be no Louis for you tonight,” he threatens before walking away.

Harry nearly caves because it really is the threat of all threats. A night without his husband is unthinkable, but in the end he can’t resist. Payback is too sweet of a temptation.

“A few months ago did someone say something about paying me five pounds if I win?” Harry asks smugly, trying to hold in his laughter. There’s a sleeping couple a to consider after all.

He almost succeeds. Harry comes just shy of winning the battle against laughing out loud, but he loses it when Louis mutters, “Do me a favour. Never mention this again and I’ll make it fifty.”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for giving it a chance, and making it this far!!! Writing is my therapy and my happy place. So I'm really sorry if you didn't like it. Beyond ecstatic if you did. xx


End file.
